


Baking Banana Bread

by WhyDoIWrite



Series: The Q [2]
Category: Women's Soccer RPF
Genre: Car Sex, Casual Sex, F/F, Friends to Lovers, It’s just a lot of sex with a happy ending, Kitchen Sex, Missing Sonny, Or Is It?, O’Horan, Quarantine, Roughness, Stranded, Strap-On, Training buddies, USWNT, friendly competitions
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-07
Updated: 2021-01-18
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:00:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 38,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23522698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhyDoIWrite/pseuds/WhyDoIWrite
Summary: A quarantine fic no one wants, where air-travel is halted, interstate travel is prohibited, and Kelley and Lindsey are stuck in the same apartment.
Relationships: Kelley O'Hara/Lindsey Horan
Series: The Q [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1697386
Comments: 118
Kudos: 348





	1. Stranded

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It all started with a missed flight...

“She’s going to settle in, Linds. She’s gonna be fine,” Kelley says leaning into Lindsey’s shoulder with a nudge to get her attention, to try to distract her from her thoughts, from wherever her mind is going. Because judging by the pained expression on Lindsey's face, it's certainly not going to a good place at the moment. 

They’re sitting in the airport in Salt Lake City – Kelley’s final destination after their last National Team game in the SheBelieves Cup, and Lindsey's layover stop on her way back to the Thorns in Portland. They've got a month to re-integrate with their clubs for pre-season before they'll meet up again, right here, for a friendly against Australia.

Kelley could leave, she _should_ leave. She’s exhausted from the tournament. She just wants to get back into her apartment - her apartment that she hasn't seen since October - and sleep and then work on getting everything set up the way she likes it for the start of pre-season. But Lindsey has this damn layover. And Lindsey doesn’t look quite capable of handling said layover all by herself at the moment, at least in Kelley’s opinion. So while her luggage is probably rounding the carousel over and over, and probably going to end up in United’s lost and found, Kelley has decided to wait out Lindsey’s layover with her. Because if friends aren’t for that, then what are they for?

“Hmm? Oh, yeah. Yeah, I know,” Lindsey hurries out, trying to sound like she really _does_ know that Sonny's going to be ok, even if she doesn't actually know. “I just wish we could have helped her move into her apartment in Orlando. I wish she was headed there instead of back to Atlanta. We could have helped her, Kell. That was the plan. We were supposed to help her.”

“We would have, but she’s not ready to be there yet. And Marc told her to take some time, see her family. She’ll get there. And we’ll go visit her. She’s going to be fine. You don’t have to worry about her. She’s a big girl. And she’s got her big girl panties on,” Kelley tries to reassure Lindsey, but it’s mostly pointless. The fact that Sonny seems to be handling it better than Lindsey is, well, it's unexpected.

Kelley can’t help but wonder how much of Lindsey’s anxiety is not about knowing if _Sonny_ will be fine in Orlando, but rather not knowing if _she_ will be fine in Portland without her best friend. Kelley had watched the two of them go through the stages of grief over the past couple of months. Lindsey clearly hadn't made it to the acceptance stage yet. That “No” she typed as a reply to Sonnett’s Pride post was more than enough for Kelley to figure out the truth. Sonnett was broken up about the trade, but Lindsey was absolutely crushed. Kelley had almost gone after Lindsey for that one-word response. Like it wasn’t hard enough on Sonny already; she didn’t need Lindsey to make her feel worse about it, not when Sonny was finally coming to terms with it. But then she realized how much Lindsey was hurting. It was her way of acting out. Her way of screaming to the world about how unfair it all was. Her way of dealing with the hurt. So Kelley let her be.

“Crazy 8’s or Speed?” Kelley asks, reaching into the front pocket of her carry-on. Lindsey just stares at her blankly. “If I’m going to be stuck here with you for the next hour, we’re going to have to do _something_.” 

“Oh, you can go. I’m sorry, Kell. You don’t have to stay with me. Go home. You’re probably tired.”

Kelley is. She’s really fucking tired. She’s not game fit and the back-to-back-to-back trainings and games, between January camp and CONCACAF and SheBelieves, took a lot out of her. She feels like she could just chill for a week, at least. Hard chill. Tobin style. Even though that's not like her at all. She already knows that she’s probably going to pull the National Team card with the new coach at their first meeting in a couple of days. This would be so much easier if it were Laura…

“Nope. You’re stuck with me until you get on that plane, kid. Let’s play Speed. I’ll kick your ass at that, too.”

“Too?” Lindsey laughs, indignant. “What have you ever kicked my ass at?”

"I kick your ass on the field every session," Kelley reminds her, happy that Lindsey’s focus seems to have shifted away from Orlando, at least temporarily. She gets up and finds a spot on the floor by the windows so they have a good surface to play on. “Let’s fucking go,” she grins, shuffling the cards like a pro.

Forty-five minutes and a break for Starbucks later, Lindsey has yet to win a game, and with all of Kelley’s ribbing, she hasn’t thought about Sonnett in… well, in forty-five minutes. The announcement for boarding breaks up their fun. Kelley starts to get up. “Safe trip, Horan. It was nice wiping the floor with ya! See ya in a few weeks."

Lindsey tugs her back down. “We _cannot_ end like this. I haven’t beaten you once. I’m not getting on the plane til I win a game.”

“It’s not going to happen. And it’s not in my nature to let you win. You’re in the first boarding group. Get a move on!” Kelley laughs, thinking it’s a joke.

It’s not a joke. 

"I'll catch the next flight if I have to. I'm sure there's another this afternoon or tonight," Lindsey insists.

"Um... it's not like you're going to be able to voluntarily give up your seat for credit. Look around. This airport's half empty. People are afraid to fly.” And to emphasize what she means, Kelley nods towards a couple in masks and gloves. “Besides, I don’t think you can miss your flight when you’re like, already in the airport because of a layover. Your bag’s on there. They’re not going to take off without you if your bag’s on there. 9/11. Remember? Oh wait, you were a baby. You don’t remember.” Kelley can’t resist the chance to poke fun at her teammate again. 

But Lindsey doesn’t budge. 

“Fine. One game of Crazy 8’s. If you win, you get on the plane,” Kelley acquiesces. "And if you lose, you still get on the damn plane," she adds for good measure.

Lindsey doesn’t win that game either. 

Before Kelley knows it, they’re paging one Lindsey Horan over the intercom and Lindsey’s up at the counter arguing with them about not getting on the plane, and telling them to either send her luggage through or deplane it, and she’s insisting that if they won’t re-book her on a later flight, she’ll just do it herself and pay the new fare.

And that’s when Kelley gets it. When she finally realizes just _how_ _much_ Lindsey doesn’t want to go back to Portland alone. How real it’s finally becoming for Lindsey, going back there for the start of pre-season, without the person she never thought she'd be separated from. Because without Sonny, Portland doesn’t feel like home to her anymore. It was never about the card games. As competitive as Horan is, Kelley should have seen right through that. Playing a few more games, hanging out with Lindsey in the stupid Salt Lake City airport, is the least Kelley can do for her right now.

“Hey,” Kelley’s voice from behind Lindsey is soft. When Lindsey turns, Kelley steps closer and rests her hand on Lindsey’s back. “Just re-book your flight. We’ll keep playing. It’s ok.” The airline employee looks downright annoyed verging on angry, as Kelley shrugs and gives him an apologetic look, but she leads Lindsey by the arm to their spot on the floor, with the airline employee calling out behind them that they’ll be removing Lindsey’s luggage from the plane. 

By the time they sit down, Lindsey is already fumbling with the airline app, but she's not doing a very good job of hiding the tears in her eyes. Kelley scoots closer to her, throwing an arm over Lindsey’s shoulder, and gently taking the phone from her hands.

“Here,” she says after a minute as she holds the phone out so Lindsey can see it. There’s another flight to Portland at 6:15. Want me to book it for you?” Lindsey nods. “Or you wanna stay with me and catch this one tomorrow morning?" Lindsey shakes her head. "Ok. Easy peasy. We got some time. How ‘bout we continue our card game at the bar over there?” Kelley suggests.

A couple of cape codders later, Lindsey’s won a few games and is insisting on trying her hand at Speed again. Kelley, relishing the opportunity to go back to destroying Lindsey, happily obliges and begins dealing the cards. It takes a moment for them to notice that the bar, and the entire wing of the airport, has gone silent. The music is off, the conversations have stopped, the mindless background noise of boarding announcements and gate changes has ceased. People are staring at their phones and at the closed captioning on the nearby TVs. And then a voice comes over the intercom. 

“Attention. May I have your attention please. Due to COVID-19, and by Executive Order, the President of the United States has declared a moratorium on air travel from and within the country. All flights currently en route will be allowed to land, but effective immediately, no new flights will take off for a period to be determined. If you are a citizen of another country, please see a gate agent for options that may be available to you, or contact your embassy. If you are a citizen or resident of the United States, please do not approach airline counters, as we will not be able to re-book you on a flight at this time. Your airline should be reaching out to you at the contact number or email you provided with further details as they become available. If you checked baggage, it will be on one of our carousels on the lower level. Please check monitors for carousel number. If you do not have checked baggage, please make your way to the exit in an orderly fashion.”

Lindsey and Kelley look at each other, and slightly drunk Lindsey bursts out laughing, which makes Kelley laugh, too. “Wait, what?” Lindsey asks, the information not fully sinking in yet, even though the message is being repeated. “I can’t go back to Portland?”

Kelley shrugs. “Um.. no?”

“What. The. Actual. Fuck.” Lindsey drops her head into her hands, still chuckling. How ironic – she did everything to draw out going back to Portland, to avoid that painful return, and now that she's finally distracted enough and buzzed enough to face going back to Portland alone, she can't go back to Portland. “Fuck. I need a hotel,” she takes out her phone. “And a rental so I can drive back tomorrow and – ”

“Hey. Hey!” Kelley taps Lindsey’s arm to get her attention. “You can stay with me, loser. And don’t even bother with a car right now. There’s going to be a mad rush. Give it a few days, people are going to be renting and dropping off one-way all over the country. Let things settle down. Besides,” Kelley adds, "if flights are cancelled, you can't be expected back at training, right? We got time.”

“Kell, I can’t stay with you…” Lindsey protests.

“Because why?” Kelley looks up from her phone. “According to the internet, everything’s shutting down. Schools. Stores. Governor’s are enacting stay home orders as we speak. They’re talking about deploying the National Guard. What are you going to do? Hang out by yourself at a hotel until this all blows over?”

“I mean, yeah? I know you like your alone time. We’ll drive each other crazy. One of us will end up dead or seriously injured and the other in prison. Besides, if we’re really not going to be able to train for awhile, I’m sure you’ll want to spend this time with your girlfriend…” Lindsey trails off.

“Yeah? How’s she going to get to me? Drive all the way across the country?” Kelley leaves out the part about her girlfriend breaking up with her six weeks ago, tired of the distance, tired of the time apart, tired of Kelley’s refusal to put in for a trade to the Spirit so they could live together. Kelley sighs, not at Lindsey, but at the memory of being called selfish, of being told she didn’t know how to actually love anyone but herself, of being accused of not wanting to settle down, when the truth was, Kelley wanted nothing more than to settle down and build a life with her girlfriend. But she wasn’t going to finish out her career playing for Richie Burke, not when she had so few years left in her, and not when those years were so precious.

“I don’t know… I guess – I guess – ” Lindsey stammers.

“Shut it, Horan. You’re my lockdown buddy until you can back to Portland. How long can this possibly last, right? We won’t kill each other. Probably.”

“Are you sure?” Lindsey sounds anything but sure.

“Yeah. I can’t imagine your lonely ass all by yourself in a hotel room. No kitchen. Having to order all your food in. Crying over your drink at the hotel bar. Weird dudes hitting on you. Besides, you can rent a car in a few days and drive back. No worries.”

“Yeah, ok, I guess,” Lindsey mumbles, thankful that she doesn’t have to go stay alone. In a hotel. In a city that's not hers. On lockdown. Even if it is just for a few days. 

"Glad they got pissed and gave you your bag already," Kelley adds. "Let's go find mine and get an Uber outta here before things get really crazy. And for real, Linds, be super glad Sonny's not in Florida already. At least she gets to hang out with her family for a little bit longer. She'll be happy about that. We'll FaceTime her. This won't be too bad." 


	2. Boxes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ... so Kelley drags Lindsey to her apartment, because where else is she going to go, really?

“Welp, here we are!” Kelley’s excitement is forced, Lindsey can tell, but she’s not sure why. “Home sweet temporary home.” She unlocks the door and pushes it open. It sticks a little. The air is stale inside. Everything’s just the way she left it, a place for everything and everything in it’s place, except there’s a thin layer of dust on every surface, and there’s a stack of moving boxes in the entry, the stuff she packed and shipped from the DC home she shared with her girlfriend. She didn’t know what else to do with it. Shipping it back home to Atlanta meant acknowledging to her parents that another relationship had failed. And Kelley couldn’t do that yet, because her perfect parents and their perfect marriage magnified Kelley’s repeated failure to sustain a relationship. And it’s why she didn’t fly back to Atlanta after Frisco. She could have taken some time off at home, seen her family – it wasn’t like she wanted to come back to Utah – except… she _couldn’t_.

Lindsey follows Kelley into her bedroom. “There’s probably an empty drawer or two in that dresser,” Kelley nods vaguely in its direction. “And there’s room in the closet.” She leaves her bag, and Lindsey does the same, not really knowing what else to do. She follows Kelley back into the living room. Kelley just stands there, helplessly staring at the stack of boxes.

“I don’t need closet space. All I have is my camp stuff, and I’ll be out of your hair in a few days anyway. I can make the drive to Portland in a day.” Kelley doesn’t respond. “But, Kell, what’s with all these boxes? Do you really move this much shit back and forth from DC every season?”

Kelley doesn’t even look at her. She can’t. “No, not usually,” she says, her voice cracking as she tries not to cry. Again. She hasn’t cried in front of anyone, and now’s not the time. “Let’s FaceTime Sonnett. See if she got home all right.” She turns around, more composed, and faces Lindsey.

“Her flight was direct, I’m sure she did,” Lindsey starts, and then she sees Kelley’s face. “What’s wrong? Are you ok?”

Kelley lets out this half chuff, half chuckle. “Yep, never been better. Hey, we’ll get groceries tomorrow. What do you want me to order for dinner?” She heads to the kitchen to sort through her drawer of to-go menus. “There’s Blue Lemon, they’ve got some good vegetarian dishes. Slapfish if you want seafood, I guess I can do seafood.” Kelley’s just rambling, trying to focus on what Lindsey might eat so she doesn’t have to focus on what’s really bothering her. “Oh, but you like Thai. Asian Potato? It’s this fusion- ” She knew Lindsey was behind her. She could feel her. Kelley also figures she can just ignore her. Until she feels Lindsey’s hand on her bicep. 

“Hey.” 

Kelley’s shoulders sag. Lindsey’s voice is warm and kind, and Kelley almost answers her. But then… “I don’t want to talk about it,” she mumbles. 

And Lindsey leaves her alone. Through dinner, through Kelley insisting on dusting her apartment at almost 9 pm, and eventually through a bottle of wine and some trash TV that takes a lot of convincing, because Kelley doesn’t want to stop cleaning.

Finally, Kelley seems sufficiently wound down enough for bed. But Lindsey hesitates in the living room. “Um, you got a blanket or something?”

“What? No. I mean, yes, I have a blanket, but you don’t have to sleep on the couch. Come on,” Kelley motions for Lindsey to follow. 

Lindsey doesn’t budge. It’s just Kelley, but it’s _Kelley_. And this her place, her space. It’s Lindsey’s fault that she’s there, because she couldn’t get on her stupid flight, and Kelley was kind enough to hang with her, and Lindsey really doesn’t want to inconvenience her anymore than she already is. 

“Unless it makes you uncomfortable?” Kelley asks, confused, like they haven’t roomed together, which is basically the same. “I can sleep on my couch if it does. But Sonny always sleeps in my bed.” Kelley realizes after she says it that that probably wasn’t the most sound reasoning she’s ever used, but Lindsey shrugs and follows her. 

Neither one can sleep. Lindsey’s still on edge about everything that her life is right now, all messy and off-kilter, and she knows Kelley’s awake too because Kelley keeps tossing and turning, unable to settle. “Why didn’t you fly to DC after the game?” Lindsey asks in the darkness.

That makes Kelley freeze. “Why didn’t you fly to Denver?” Kelley asks defensively, and she immediately regrets it, because Lindsey doesn’t deserve that. And if she has to tell someone, Lindsey’s not a bad person to tell.

But Lindsey answers her anyway. “I want to see my family, but… I’d have to see him then. And... yeah…” Lindsey leaves it at that and Kelley knows exactly what she means. “So, um, maybe I told him I had to go straight back to Portland for pre-season?”

Kelley gives a little chuckle, but stays silent for a while longer. _It’s just Lindsey_ , she tells herself _. She has her own relationship shit, it’s not like she’d judge me. And she gets how hard a long-distance relationship is._ “She broke up with me. Weeks ago,” Kelley mumbles.

“Huh?”

Kelley clears her through. “She broke up with me,” Kelley repeats.

“No, I heard you. Why?” Lindsey asks, completely shocked. They seemed happy. It had lasted awhile. It wasn’t like so many of Kelley’s flings. 

So Kelley tells her. It’s hard, uncomfortable, having to admit that she fucked up something good, that she’s bad at relationships. Kelley doesn’t ever want to be bad at anything. It’s not in her DNA.

“So, like, the whole time we’ve been in camp, you… Why didn’t you tell me?” Lindsey asks. “It must have been hard on you.” 

Kelley turns away from Lindsey, curling into herself, making herself even smaller than she already is. “I didn’t tell anyone. Didn’t want to feel like a failure. It is what it is, you know?”

“Not even Sonny?” 

Kelley grunts out something like a no. Sonny had to have known, the way Kelley was trying to hook up with her. For everything that Kelley is, she’s never been a cheater, but it’s not like she straight up told Sonnett. “I didn’t need to bring that to camp,” she says quietly.

Like they all haven’t brought relationship shit into camp. It dawns on Lindsey that Kelley doesn’t have her people around her anymore. With Allie gone and Alex pregnant, it probably feels like she doesn’t have anyone. She’s been so busy being there for all of them, and then Lindsey wasn’t even there for her. She should have known something was wrong. She should have been able to pick up on something, but she was always too overly concerned with her own drama. Lindsey scoots closer and tentatively lays her arm across Kelley’s waist. “You’re not a failure, Kell. It’s not your fault.” Lindsey’s voice is low and tender. “You have to be true to yourself. What you want, or don’t want, matters, too.” Deep down, Kelley knows this. She shouldn’t have to upend her life to prove that she loves someone, but it still sucks, and hearing someone else say it doesn’t wipe away all the hurt. “Is this ok?” Lindsey whispers, her body so tense against Kelley’s. 

“Mmhmm,” Kelley murmurs, and she feels Lindsey relax, the weight of her arm now heavier. 

“Thanks for letting me stay,” Lindsey says, and Kelley thinks her voice sounds shy, not like it normally is at all. And Lindsey is feeling kind of shy in this moment, like she shouldn’t have her arm around Kelley, like she shouldn’t be so close, like it’s making her dizzy. _It’s gotta be the wine going to my head_ , she tells herself, because she’s feeling flushed, too. Alcohol does that to her sometimes; wine especially does. “Can I turn the fan on, you’re making me hot,” Lindsey asks. “Not like that, like, it’s hot in here, and um, you put off a lot of body heat.”

Kelley snorts. “No. I didn’t get to dust the fan. You made me watch TV.”

“And drink,” Lindsey adds. “C’mon, that has to have been better than cleaning.” 

Kelley makes this grumbly noise that, in the moment, Lindsey catches herself thinking is cute, this protesting Kelley O’Hara who’s about to do what Lindsey wants. “Kell, come on, I’m hot.” She adds just a touch of a whine to her voice.

“You are,” Kelley agrees, with a smirk that Lindsey can’t see, and Lindsey doesn’t quite know what to make of that. _Like, is Kelley flirting? Is it just typical Kelley flirting like she does with anyone and everyone, but it doesn’t mean anything? Is she just - actually hot too because there’s no airflow in her apartment?_ Kelley groans, reaching for her phone on the nightstand, and using her app to lower the temperature. “There. Fixed. You can keep holding me.” Suddenly, Kelley feels like maybe she drank too much because she has this overwhelming desire to thank Lindsey for staying with her, for being here for her. She shakes that thought off. She’s already been too vulnerable tonight, she’s not about to show Horan how soft she is under that shell.


	3. Bet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When you're cooped up with someone, it doesn't always take long for feelings to develop...

**ISO: Day 1**

Lindsey awakens to the scent of coffee and bacon wafting into the bedroom. It takes her a minute to realize she’s actually in Kelley’s apartment, because it shouldn’t smell like bacon. Sonny’s apartment always smelled like bacon and sausage on weekend mornings. They were supposed to be back Portland today - together - before their lives were upended. Lindsey knows she shouldn't feel like her life was upended, because she's still going back there, but it sure _feels_ like her life was upended. For a minute, she closes her eyes and pictures herself waking up in Sonny’s apartment, Sonny in the kitchen in sweats and a cap, making breakfast, Sonny…

“Hey, Sleeping Beauty,” Kelley voice cuts into her thoughts. “You gonna get out of bed today or?” Lindsey groans and rolls over. If she hadn’t squeezed her eyes shut while she yawned and stretched, she would have seen Kelley’s eyes following her elongated midsection down, down towards the flash of skin exposed as her t-shirt rode up, down towards her bare legs as they kicked off the covers. She would have seen Kelley drinking in that tan, smooth body. 

_Fuck_ , Kelley thinks, realizing it’s been too long since...well... if she’s thinking about Horan like that, it’s definitely been too long. And, she’s certainly glad that when she extended the offer to stay at her place, she _wasn’t_ thinking about Horan like that. Because _that_ would have been inappropriate.

Inappropriate like when she was thinking about Sonny like that and offered up her place when the Thorns were in town. 

Inappropriate like when Christen was drunk at a frat party and came onto her, and Kelley didn't put a stop to it. 

Inappropriate like when she knew Alex was going to marry Serv and she kept letting things happen anyway.

Inappropriate like when... well thank god _that_ didn’t happen because that one would’ve been a clusterfuck.

Blurred lines have always been a problem for Kelley in her periods of singleness. Except…they aren’t _usually_ a problem. Not really. Kelley prides herself in her ability to successfully navigate friends with benefits situations. In fact, it is quite possible that she’s better at these friends with benefits things than she is at actual relationships. Kelley’s therapist thinks it warrants further discussion; Kelley thinks her therapist doesn’t fully grasp the struggle of trying to date as a professional athlete in the age of social media.

But Lindsey is different. Lindsey’s life is already messy, and she absolutely does not need Kelley making it any messier. So for once, Kelley decides she's going to be in control of her thoughts. And actions. Definitely the actions. “Breakfast is ready,” she says matter-of-factly, turning on her heel and heading back to the kitchen.

Lindsey pads in a few minutes later. “What is all this?” she asks shocked, looking at bags of groceries all over Kelley’s counters and pans on the stove full of food – two eggs, a few pieces of bacon, pancakes, and some sort of blueberry sauce.

“Went to the store when it opened. You were sleeping. And I’m glad I did. By the time I left, there was a line to get in, and the shelves were emptying. I tried to get some non-vegan things to make for you, and like, kombucha and stuff.”

“Kell,” Lindsey says appreciatively, “are you for real? This is so sweet. You didn’t have to get me specific stuff though. I’ll eat whatever you eat. Pancakes would have been fine.” Lindsey can’t believe that Kelley did this for her, went out of her way to shop for her, and more importantly, cooked animal products that probably bothered her to cook. 

“I know, and the pancakes are vegan, I wasn’t going to make you a separate batch. But I just feel like you’re one of those people who will freak out if you don’t get enough protein. I mean, they’re protein pancakes, but I feel like you’re one of those people who needs meat at every meal.” Kelley feels like she rambling, but who can blame her really. Lindsey's voice is all raspy from sleep and her hair is messy and she has on these short shorts...

“I’m not,” Lindsey assures her. “Does Sonnett make you cook separate stuff for her when she stays here?” Lindsey asks, wondering if that’s why Kelley felt the need to make bacon and eggs for her.

“Nah, she always insists on cooking, and it’s always vegan. She’s got quite a few recipes down pat. It’s like she uses me as her guinea pig to make sure they’re decent.”

“I think it’s just cause she hates doing dishes so much that she’d rather cook _your_ food than have to be the one who cleans up,” Lindsey laughs. “Thank you, Kell,” she says, piling food onto her plate.

“Yeah, no worries. Just thought you could use a little something special after yesterday,” Kelley winks.

* * *

**ISO: Day 3**

Lindsey’s lying in bed, staring at the ceiling. She doesn’t want to move to get her phone off the charger to check the time because it might wake Kelley, but from the faint grayness creeping into the room, she knows it’s morning. Early, but still morning. She thinks she should probably look into reserving a car rental today. Kelley’s been great – amazingly accommodating, really – but Kelley has a reputation for being bossy, for wanting things the way she wants them. The fact that she’s exhibited none of that makes Lindsey feel like Kelley’s just holding it all in for her sake. Kelley cooks every meal – because Lindsey sucks at it – but still, she won’t even let Lindsey clean up. She keeps telling Lindsey she’s a guest and therefore, she’s not about to let Lindsey do any work. But Lindsey doesn’t feel like a guest. Or maybe it’s just that she doesn’t _want_ to feel like a guest. She feels like a guest when Kelley hands her the remote and tells her she’s in charge of finding something to watch, but she doesn’t feel like a guest when Kelley curls into, her scrolling through Instagram while Lindsey watches reruns of Grey’s. She doesn’t feel like a guest when she wakes up in the morning and finds Kelley on the couch watching old Premier League games, when Kelley switches her coffee to her left hand, pats her thigh, and then runs her hand absentmindedly through Lindsey’s hair letting Lindsey drift off back to sleep. And she certainly doesn’t feel like a guest in Kelley’s bed, with Kelley back pressed against her side. She feels something – heat that she thinks is radiating off of Kelley but she’s not really sure who it's coming from, an inexplicable struggle to breathe deeply, this sinking feeling in her stomach when Kelley rolls over and breathes into her neck, a smile gracing her lips when Kelley makes this little grumbly sound as she dreams – but she certainly doesn’t feel like a guest in those moments. Either way, Kelley’s been a gracious hostess, and it’s time for Lindsey to get out of her hair. Before she has time to give it anymore thought, Kelley’s alarm is blaring on the nightstand, and Lindsey’s left to marvel at Kelley’s ability to get out of bed without hitting snooze.

“Come on, get up. We’ve had three days off. We’re back at it today,” Kelley says with the enthusiasm of someone who’s been up for hours.

“I don’t know what you’re grumbling about three days for. I foam rolled yesterday, and you did that yoga/Pilates thingy,” Lindsey complains. “Besides, my shoulder.”

Kelley crosses her arms and leans against the doorway to the bathroom. Lindsey watches as a smirk spread across her face. “You don’t need a shoulder to run. But you do seem to need some extra motivation. Care to make a friendly wager?” 

Lindsey drags herself out of bed and follows Kelley into the bathroom. Knowing Kelley, there’s no such thing as a friendly wager, but still, she wants to know. “What’d you have in mind?”

“Eh, just a light jog.”

And... there’s no such thing as a light jog in Kelley’s world. “How do I win? More importantly, _what_ do I win?” Lindsey presses before she agrees to anything, even though she knows she’s going to agree eventually because she needs to get back into a routine.

“GPS? Best of three stats? Heart rate, energy expenditure, recovery? And…” Kelley hadn’t fully thought this out when she made the suggestion. “Winner gets a massage? I don’t know about you, but that’s what I’m missing the most being in this holding pattern.”

“You just want your hands on my body,” Lindsey teases. 

“Getting a bit brazen, are we?” Kelley asks. And then the smirk reappears. “Honey, I don't lose. I want your hands on _my_ body.”

Lindsey almost chokes on her toothpaste, but before she can even start to gauge if Kelley is joking or not, Kelley’s disappeared from the bathroom. She rinses, and lets out a deep breath, bracing herself against the counter. _What are you doing, Linds_ she asks herself in the mirror. It feels like every moment she spends with Kelley she’s less and less motivated to leave. _Which is exactly why you need to leave_ , she tells herself.

Keeping up with Kelley is challenging. She navigates six miles on the Salt Lake pavement like it’s nothing, like she wasn’t sidelined for months with an injury, like she hits 8-9 miles a game playing mid, like she’s still 25. By the time they make it back to Kelley’s complex, Lindsey’s hurting. When Kelley pulls off her sweat-drenched shirt and bends over, resting on her knees as she catches her breath, Lindsey knows her recovery stat is going to be worthless. She feels her heart rate picking up again at the sight of Kelley’s bronzed, freckled shoulders, at the way her sides synch in as she fights for more oxygen, at her shorts slung low on her obliques. When Kelley stands up, Lindsey is done. Her heart’s pounding in her ears, and it’s not from the workout. Sweat is glistening on Kelley's freckled chest, dripping down her cleavage, and Lindsey wonders why she’s never seen Kelley in this light before. Because she’s seen Kelley like this a thousand times. She’s spending too much time with Kelley, too much time alone, she thinks, too much time with no one else to focus on, no one else to distract her. They’re too cooped up, too close in this one-bedroom apartment. At least, it’s easy to blame it on those things. Lindsey swallows hard, and when she’s finally able to pull her eyes up to Kelley’s face, she catches Kelley’s eyes on her, low, like on her neck, or the bare patch skin above the collar of her tank, perhaps. When Kelley’s eyes flick up to Lindsey’s, Lindsey sees an almost imperceptible clinch of Kelley’s jaw before Kelley clears her throat.

“You can shower first, I’ll pull our data.”

“No point,” Lindsey playfully shoves Kelley’s shoulder, trying to will some normalcy to return. “That was way too easy for you.”

“Eh, I’m pretty good at hiding when things are hard for me. I wouldn’t count you out.”

Kelley hears Lindsey open the bathroom door, and calls her into a small nook she uses as an office. She’s wearing only a towel, her hair wrapped up in another. As soon as Kelley sees her, she tears her eyes away and back to her laptop’s screen. “Here,” she mumbles, rising from her chair and trying to step aside so Lindsey can see their numbers, but Lindsey brushes against her in the small space as she leans in front of the screen. That contact causes Kelley’s breath to hitch. It causes Kelley’s ears to burn. It causes Kelley to question a whole lot of things, but she reminds herself that Lindsey has a boyfriend, even if she’s gone out of her way to avoid him. “See?” Lindsey can feel Kelley leaning closer above her shoulder. Lindsey’s numbers are better… except for her recovery. There’s a little spike to her heart rate after they had stopped and started walking back through the complex. But Kelley’s spiked too, it just returned to normal faster than Lindsey’s did. “Weird,” Kelley murmurs, right by Lindsey’s ear, her finger touching the abnormality on the screen, her cheek almost touching Lindsey's.

“Must’ve been when we climbed the stairs to get up here,” Lindsey suggests, but inside, she wonders if Kelley _knows_.

A moment later Kelley’s face is gone, but her hand glances across Lindsey’s bare shoulder, resting lightly on her upper back. Her skin is still damp, and where the pads of Kelley’s fingers rest feels like little fireballs that are expanding, warming the whole expanse of her upper back. “You rocked it, Linds. Gotta stop selling yourself short. Look at your numbers. Dawn would be proud. And with a shoulder injury, at that. No way I was going to beat the best box-to-box midfielder in the game.” Kelley knows she's rambling. Again.

It’s weird, this encouragement coming from Kelley. Kelley knows only one form of motivation – making fun of people. Ok, maybe two, Lindsey reasons; she’s also a yeller. But in this moment, Kelley’s being kind. Genuine. Unbothered that she lost. So not like Kelley. At all. Lindsey looks up at Kelley, who immediately pulls her hand away and mumbles an apology. It makes the whole situation more awkward than it should be, because Kelley’s hand on her back _shouldn’t_ be awkward at all. Lindsey looks at her softly, trying to convey through her eyes what she’s feeling, that she would gladly welcome that hand right back where it was. But Kelley has moved to perch on the edge of her desk, her eyes downcast. 

And Lindsey misreads what Kelley’s feeling. “I feel like me being here is an inconvenience to you.”

Alone time has always been something Kelley’s cherished – hence her refusal to have a roommate since her frat dad Sky Blue days. But having Lindsey around has felt natural, good even. It’s nice to have someone else to cook for. It’s nice to have someone to watch TV with, even when they’re not talking. It’s nice to have someone to show funny memes to. It’s especially nice to not have to wake up alone. In a way, Kelley got lucky with the timing of the breakup. She went into camp right after and between their two camps and two tournaments, she hasn’t had to wake up alone very many mornings. Every morning, she wakes up to the feeling of warmth from a body next to hers, and while she knows it’s nothing, it’s not real, for a split second, her mind pretends it is. Frankly, that’s better than waking up in a cold bed. And, fuck, if Lindsey’s body isn’t the most perfect body that’s ever held her. Just the right amount of softness, not bony and pokey. Just the right amount of strength to make Kelley feel safe.

Lindsey’s hand on her knee snaps Kelley out of her thoughts. Lindsey’s hand dwarfs Kelley’s knee, but all Kelley can fixate on is her fingernail polish starting to chip. If she doesn’t fixate on that, she’s going to have to think about where Lindsey’s hand is and what it feels like and what it means, or at least what she _wishes_ it could mean. She's going to be forced to think about how bad she is at reading into things. And she doesn’t want to think of any of that. 

“Kell. Did you hear me?” Kelley finally pulls her eyes to Lindsey’s. “I said I feel like I’m in your way here. Like I should go.”

“Have I made you feel like you’re in the way?” The worry lines on Kelley’s face deepen, especially the one by the corner of her mouth that always forms when she presses her lips together in a tight line.

Lindsey wants to reach up and wipe it away. Instead, she marvels at the fact that there are so many little things about Kelley that she memorized without even trying. After a moment, she just shakes her head. “No, I- I just worry.”

“It’s up to you. Do whatever you want.” Kelley tries to make her voice sound dismissive, not needy.

“What do _you_ want?”

Normally Kelley loves being asked that question. No, normally, Kelley doesn’t even wait for someone to ask her that question; she just comes right out and says what she wants. It’s the product of being the middle child, her opinions always ignored. So maybe people tell her she comes across as overbearing a lot of the time. She can’t help that she wants to feel heard now that she’s an adult. But when it comes to Lindsey, right now, sitting in front of her, Kelley would rather not be asked what she wants. The way Lindsey is staring at her, so intently, she knows she’s not going to be let off the hook. She takes Lindsey’s hand off her knee, holding it, thumbing over her chipping nail polish. Kelley takes a deep breath, hesitating a moment longer, as if buying seconds will make this easier. “I like having you here,” she confides softly.

Right at the same time Lindsey says, “They’re starting to look like shit.”

They laugh nervously, trying to fill the silence, desperate to break the tension that’s developed between them.

Kelley bites down on her lip – hard – willing herself to think about anything other than running her fingers up Lindsey’s forearm, over the cuts of her biceps and deltoids, to think of anything other than how easy it would be to tug at the corner of the towel, tucked just below Lindsey’s collarbone. And the way Lindsey’s looking at her makes Kelley wonder if Lindsey would stop her. Instead, she gets up. “Plan tomorrow’s workout. I’m gonna hop in the shower.”

* * *

“Do you ever stop?” Lindsey asks as Kelley climbs into bed for the night. “Working, working out, cleaning, organizing, just… doing?”

Kelley looks across the bed, squinting at her. “You’ve seen me watch TV everyday since you got here,” she says, confused.

“Yeah, but, it always seems like then you just have to make up the time you lost doing nothing... later.”

“You don’t have to wait up for me,” Kelley tells her, in case that's the problem. 

“I know. But… it’s nice having someone to fall asleep with.” 

Lindsey scoots down onto her pillow, and Kelley feels Lindsey’s hand shift on the mattress. She knows it’s just mere inches from her hand, knows she could reach out and graze her hand over Lindsey’s just by stretching her fingers out. “I just wanted to throw some of your laundry in the wash, that’s all I was doing.” And ordering Lindsey nail polish and nail polish remover and cotton balls and all the other things the internet said she’d need for an at-home manicure, but Lindsey doesn’t need to know that. 

“See, I _am_ annoying you. Or at least my pile of laundry is,” Lindsey says sheepishly.

Her pile of laundry on the floor at the foot of Kelley’s bed had been growing, but really, Kelley was just thinking about making sure Lindsey had clean clothes when she decided to do laundry at almost midnight. She reaches out and squeezes Lindsey’s hand under the covers. “I just figured if you’re staying, you’d want some clean clothes.” Reassuring Lindsey seems like a good enough excuse to touch her.

And Lindsey doesn’t seem to mind. In fact, she turns into Kelley. “Turn over. Let me rub your back.”

Kelley chuckles. “I lost, remember?”

“We didn’t adjust our scores for age. If we had, you would've won,” Lindsey can’t keep the grin off her face. 

“Really. _Really_?” Kelley shakes her head at Lindsey's attempt to knock her age. “Like the fact that they might postpone the Olympics doesn’t already have me feeling old.” She grabs the pillow under her head, and smacks Lindsey in the face with it, in one fell swoop, before Lindsey even has time to react. Lindsey’s laughter fills the bedroom, it's joyous and loud a perfect, and it presents a wonderful opportunity to get her again, really, but instead, Kelley takes her pillow back and lies down.

But Lindsey doesn't think this fight is over. She’s about to get her payback when Kelley sees her out of the corner of her eye, and grabs Lindsey by the wrist. Kelley’s strong, and her grip is tight, too tight for Lindsey to get free. Lindsey drops the pillow and leans into Kelley, trying to make Kelley’s arm give out. Kelley holds her off for longer than she thought she could, but soon, Kelley’s bicep is shaking and the shaking spreads to her forearm, and before either woman knows it, Lindsey has collapsed into Kelley, stopping herself an inch from Kelley’s lips. She’s so close that Kelley can’t even see her clearly without going cross-eyed, but she watches Lindsey’s tongue flick across her lips and Kelley wants so bad to do the same, to feel and taste Lindsey’s lips. If it were anyone else, she would have already. It’s not that they’re teammates, it’s not even that Lindsey has never said she’s anything but straight, it’s not even the fact that Kelley is morally opposed to being a homewrecker It’s Sonnett. It’s the same reason Kelley was hesitant to hook up with her: the connection between Sonnett and Lindsey always seemed to go beyond friendship. Except Sonnett has assured her that it doesn’t, and Sonnett has someone else now, and..

And it just feels like the moment is gone before Kelley can act on it. Lindsey’s face is a few inches farther away, and she’s still looking at Kelley, intently, but not with that same want. All Kelley can muster is “Be careful with your shoulder.” Lindsey rolls off of her, and Kelley props herself up so she can study Lindsey’s face. It’s unreadable as Lindsey stares at the ceiling. “You know, when you went down, it terrified me. I thought it was your collarbone,” Kelley says quietly. She knows Lindsey probably _doesn’t_ know, because she was in so much pain, but Kelley rushed over to her. Lindsey turns her head and raises her eyebrows, and Kelley’s realization at how that sounded, the tone of her voice when the words came out, sinks in. “Can’t win gold without you. I need you healthy. Need you out there," she explains, trying to cover the softness.

“All I am is a workhorse to you,” Lindsey jokes, and Kelley shrugs. It worked.

“Listen, I’ve gotta compete against 25-year-olds on the field for probably a whole extra year because of this shit, so you won fair and square. And even if you didn’t, I don’t want some one-handed massage cause your shoulder hurts. Roll over.”

Lindsey gives in, and Kelley takes the deepest breath she can in silence, letting it out slowly to steady herself and so Lindsey is unaware of her nerves. She sits up and scoots the sides of Lindsey’s t-shirt up along her ribs, to her shoulders, and helps Lindsey shimmy out of it. She’s left with the most incredible view of Lindsey broad, tan, well-muscled back. “Hang on.” Her voice cracks as she says it and she’s glad Lindsey is face down in her pillow at the moment, because she knows her face is bright red. A minute later, she’s back with a spoonful of coconut oil in a bowl, and mixing it with black pepper essential oil.

“That smells,” comes Lindsey’s muffled complaint. Kelley grumbles, but gets up and adds some lavender oil in, and gets an equally muffled “better” for her efforts.

She sets up on Lindsey’s right, careful to avoid her left shoulder. Her hands feel like they’re burning as they glide over Lindsey’s skin, and it could be the black pepper oil, but it could also _not_ be the black pepper oil. The little muffled groans and hums and ahhs and these guttural moans coming from Lindsey aren’t helping. “Fuck, Kell, you’re really good at this,” Lindsey whines into the pain, and Kelley doesn’t know how much longer she’s going to be able to do this, because these are all the sounds she wants to hear from Lindsey, just in a different context. Lindsey’s voice distracts her from her thoughts. “You don’t have to avoid that shoulder. Prolly be good to get some blood flowing there.”

Kelley gives her a pillow. “Sorry I don’t have a massage table. Put this under your hips.” Lindsey lifts off the bed enough to fit the pillow in, while Kelley looks up at her ceiling, praying for the ability to maintain some composure, before straddling Lindsey. “You ok?” she asks, and Lindsey’s quiet confirmation follows. Within a few minutes, Lindsey’s begging Kelley to go deeper and harder, and Kelley decides this is payback for something. For what, she isn’t sure, but something. Definitely. Kelley works Lindsey’s back until her muscles are buttery soft and her own hands are aching. She slides off Lindsey, and then, without really thinking about it, kisses her injured shoulder. "Hope it feels better,” she whispers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I started this sober and finished this not, so sorry.


	4. Questions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> … and sometimes, there comes a point where you really struggle to keep those feelings hidden.

**ISO: Day 5**

Lindsey didn’t mean to find it. 

She wasn’t looking, wasn’t snooping. Just wanted to be helpful.

Kelley left to get more groceries as talks of rationing had begun. She told Lindsey to stay home. No need for both of them to go out into the craziness. Lindsey just wanted to do something nice for Kelley while she was out. Kelley’s apartment was spotless, so she wandered around for a while, trying to figure out what to do. And then she saw the laundry that Kelley had folded but hadn’t had a chance to put up yet. Lindsey could handle that.

But there it was, second drawer on the right, sitting atop a nicely folded, organized by color, collection of lingerie. She froze. Then she took a deep breath and tried to rationalize it. 

Kelley is gay. 

Of course she has a strap-on. 

All lesbians have a strap-on. Probably.

Not shocking at all. 

She’s an adult.

Kelley’s an adult.

This is totally normal.

Lindsey had seen strap-ons before. Well, pictures of them, at least, so same.

The next thought that filled her mind was the color – purple. Pride purple. And that led her to thinking about Kelley fucking Sonnett with a Pride purple dildo. For an instant the thought hurt, a dull hurt, like a hard hit square to the chest. Then it was replaced by other thoughts. Thoughts of what Kelley would look like wearing it. Thoughts of what they would look like using it together. Lindsey had seen more than enough of both of them over the years to allow her imagination to run with it. The way the straps would accentuate Kelley’s tight ass. The way Sonny would look lying on her back, naked. Or would they… or maybe…

  
She wants to touch it. 

It feels forbidden. 

At some point while Lindsey is lost in her thoughts, Kelley comes home and wanders into the bedroom to find Lindsey standing there, staring into the drawer. Lindsey doesn’t even hear her. Kelley leans against the doorframe, brow furrowed, trying to figure out what it is that has Lindsey’s attention. And then she remembers. “Fuck,” she coughs at it hits her. It’s _that_ drawer. That drawer where she kept things for when the Thorns came to Utah. That drawer where she kept things for when her girlfriend visited. Well, ex-girlfriend. And it didn’t seem like she’d be having fun with Sonny anytime soon either. She had pretty much forgotten about it.

Lindsey’s head snaps up. “I- I- I- didn’t. I wasn’t… I just wanted to put your laundry away so you didn’t have to.”

Kelley sucks her lips in until they’ve almost disappeared, hiding a slight smile, and she raises her eyebrows. She supposes if Lindsey had just decided to put her clothes in the drawers in the first place – instead of living out of her suitcase – she would have found it earlier.

Lindsey just wants Kelley to say something. 

Kelley has no intention of saying anything, slightly amused by how uncomfortable Lindsey seems with it all.

“You get purple for Sonny?” Lindsey finally blurts out, and Kelley can’t say what she wants to. She hasn’t hooked up with Sonny in a long time. Lindsey probably assumes she did at their last two camps, but she can’t correct that because it would lead to too many questions. Lindsey would want to know why not, and the why not is because of Rose. And fucking Sonnett and Rose still haven’t told her.

“It’s not new,” Kelley finally replies. “I got purple cause it looks good with that lacy harness.” She can’t help but smile at Lindsey’s coughing fit that comes as a result of that revelation. Kelley walks over to close the drawer, eyes never leaving Lindsey’s. She ends up all in Lindsey’s space because Lindsey doesn’t move. That surprises her, this tiny show of confidence that she didn’t anticipate. 

They both try to act like adults after that. They go about their day like it’s any other– but there’s a tension hanging in the air. 

When eyes drift to glistening muscles during their lift. 

When partner stretching lead to lingering hands that raise heart rates too high.

When they’re training, and there’s an extra bite to their competitiveness. Too much physicality in their 1v1s. Too much showiness in their finishing.

When Lindsey makes fun of Kelley for the amount of back sweat she has and gets a face full of Kelley’s sweaty tee. When Kelley sits down on the pitch between Lindsey’s legs and leans back on her, because she feels this need to keep testing these boundaries, and Lindsey feels both cold and hot at the same time. 

When Lindsey peaks her head into the bathroom door while Kelley’s showering. “Kell. I gotta to pee. I can’t hold it,” and Kelley’s grumble is audible over the falling water. “You take for fucking ever, and it’s not my fault you only have one bathroom. I won’t look.” She does look. Of course she looks. It’s Kelley O’Hara. Not that she can see much. Kelley’s long, hot showers fog up her glass shower door. But Lindsey can see the outline of Kelley’s body, the curve of her back down to her ass. She’s pretty sure that if Kelley asked her to come shower with her – to conserve water, save the planet and whatnot – she would.

This back and forth between them is exhausting. Frustrating. Exciting. Scary. Hot. Both of them waiting for the other to cave and make a move that’s not so damn ambiguous.

* * *

The bulk of their day over, both end up on the couch. Lindsey scrolls through social media aimlessly as a distraction, but she can’t stop thinking about what she happened upon this morning. After a while, Kelley realizes she’s turned the pages through a chapter and a half in her book and has no idea what she’s read. She can’t stop thinking about Lindsey – the way Lindsey couldn’t take her eyes off the toy, the way she was too intrigued and so nervous. Kelley sets her book down on the end table next to her, a little too loudly, and rubs her face in frustration. She gets up, paces around for a minute and catches Lindsey looking at her with this puzzled expression. 

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Do you want to watch a movie?”

Lindsey nods, but when Kelley tries to hand her the remote, Lindsey pushes it back to her and gets up off the couch. “Pick,” she shouts over her shoulder, wandering into the kitchen. 

“Funny, scary, gay, what?” Kelley asks, and Lindsey laughs.

“Pick, Kell.” Lindsey clicks the light off as she returns with two glasses of wine. This time, she sits in the middle of the couch.

“Heavy pour,” Kelley comments, but Lindsey ignores her.

“What’s this?” she nods to the TV. “Subtitles, Kell?”

“Thought you might enjoy hearing some French again. We got wine. Maybe we can look through World Cup photos later. Like French-themed night.”

“If we’re doing a French theme, I’m going to demand a whole new date. Dinner wasn’t French.” Kelley swallows her wine wrong and chokes. She pats Kelley’s back until her coughing fit dies down. She can only catch glimpses of Kelley’s face in the flickering light from the screen, but it’s enough to know that she’s made an impact. Knowing that electrifies Lindsey, grows her confidence. “Is this gay?” she asks as she cuddles into Kelley again, and Kelley gives her this little innocent shrug, like “ _you told me to pick so I picked_.” As soon as Lindsey’s finishes her wine, her head ends up in Kelley’s lap, and Kelley starts running her fingers through Lindsey’s hair. She loves how softly Kelley does it. She loves the way Kelley’s nails seem to inadvertently dig into her scalp at certain part of film. It’s not just Kelley though. Lindsey’s hand has been resting on Kelley’s knee all night, tracing circles, teasing in towards the soft skin of Kelley’s inner thigh, causing Kelley’s breathing to be uneven. Lindsey's fingertips are heavy, a little rough, but they move just right sometimes, causing goosebumps to form on Kelley's legs.

The movie ends, and the credits roll, plunging the room into darkness, but neither woman moves. Lindsey is aroused, and she can blame it on the movie, but honestly, it’s Kelley, and the contents of Kelley’s drawer that are the culprits. “What’s it like?” Lindsey finally asks quietly, because she _needs_ to know, and asking Kelley feels safe.

“What’s what like?”

“Using, you know, what I found this morning.”

Kelley lets out a chuckle at Lindsey’s inability to say the word. “A strap-on?”

“Mmhmm.” Lindsey tenses up.

Kelley thinks about it for a bit. She has to go way back to remember. Back to the 2015 World Cup when she packed it, for reasons. Reasons that maybe involved Alex. And maybe, in the aftermath of Kelley scoring her first goal, Alex decided Kelley needed a special reward. Their roles were never reversed again, but Kelley can conjure up the almost-five-year-old memory. She tried to get Sonny to wear a strap, even bought her a nice leather harness with gold buckles because there was no way Sonny was going to wear the one Kelley had, but it just wasn’t Sonnett’s thing. She knows it’s not the same, but Kelley has no intention of sharing any of this. She clears her throat. “You’re straight. You know what it’s like to be dicked down.”

Lindsey’s cheeks grow hot. “No, um, that’s- that’s not what I mean.” Her mouth feels so fucking dry she considers sitting up and chugging the wine that Kelley didn’t finish. But then she’d have to deal with the fact that she’d be able to see Kelley looking at her. It’s easier to pretend that Kelley’s _not_ looking at her right now.

“Oh. Oooohhh. Ok.” It’s shocking, but at least Kelley feels more equipped to answer this, though it’s not something she _ever_ expected to be answering for Lindsey Horan. “It’s um…” as soon as Kelley starts talking, she suddenly doesn’t feel capable of having this conversation after all. “Um… it’s nice to add in some variety. It’s, uh, nice, being able to use your hands for other things. And it’s nice to look into someone’s eyes.”

“Nice, huh?” Lindsey asks. “That’s what you’re gonna give me?” 

“I - ” Kelley takes a deep breath. “Sometimes, I just want to see a woman’s face when she comes and know that I did that. Don’t get me wrong, I love being between a woman’s legs. I love the way it tastes and feels and smells and everything about it, but… but, I guess that’s not what you asked.”

“I don’t mind,” Lindsey murmurs. Another wave of confidence washes over her and she shifts so she can look up at Kelley. Kelley’s hand ends up resting on her stomach.

Kelley tries again. “The female form from behind is sexy as fuck, so there’s that.”

“But what’s it _like_?” Lindsey presses.

Kelley’s not one to be uncomfortable talking about sex. At all. But talking about this, with Lindsey, is making her inexplicably nervous. It could be because Lindsey’s lying there in her lap, staring up at her expectantly. It could be because this conversation is turning her on. It could be that Lindsey asking these questions is making Kelley wonder….

She tries to find her words. “There’s this different power dynamic. I feel a sense of control. Sometimes even aggression. It’s scary.” Kelley’s voice is quiet and shaky. “But it’s also exciting. I don’t get a lot out of it in the way of, like, physical sensations. It’s more mental. Like, I feel like there’s this whole different side of me.” She realizes, as she finishes, that Lindsey’s breathing has quickened; hers has too. “We should go to sleep,” Kelley quickly adds. “It’s late and we have that team zoom in the morning.”

“Yeah. Ok,” Lindsey says. It’s breathy and low, and it makes Kelley look up at the ceiling and shake her head as Lindsey gets up. 

Later, when they get in bed, nighttime routines complete, Kelley scoots _all_ the way on her side, her back to Lindsey. She thinks that after today, she’s probably not able to handle being close to Lindsey right now. That conversation, that closeness, those thoughts, had left her wet and _fuck_ , she thinks to herself. _I cannot feel this way about fucking Lindsey_. But then Lindsey tugs her hand, pulling Kelley towards her, molds herself into the curve of Kelley’s body, wraps Kelley’s arm around her, and holds it there against her chest. _So much for fucking sleep_ , Kelley thinks.

“Kell?” Lindsey wants to know if she’s still awake, and Kelley runs her thumb over Lindsey’s hand in response. Kelley can’t see the clock, but it feels like she’s been lying there for at least an hour, though the concept of time is usually lost on her, and realistically, with how absorbed in her thoughts she is, it just as well could have been five minutes. “What if I want to try it?” Lindsey asks. Her voice is soft, but steady. Confident. Kelley stays silent, unable to form words in the moment, wondering if it’s just her imagination, or maybe she’d didn’t hear Lindsey right, because there’s no way. There’s no fucking way. “I think- I think I want to see what it’s like.”


	5. Whispers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lindsey's sure... and Kelley's mostly sure...

**ISO: Day 5**

Kelley freezes – her mind, her body, her breathing – but it’s too late. This is one of those times she would have been better off pretending to be asleep. Cool, calm, confident, cocky Kelley is gone. Smooth, seductive, sensual Kelley is gone. She swallows hard and it hurts, like there’s an actual lump in her throat, not an imaginary one. What the fuck is she supposed to say to that? To the boldness. To the implications. It’s almost better to let the agitation creep in, to be mad at herself for allowing Lindsey to cast this spell over her, to bite back. It’s the only way she feels like she’s not going to lose control of the situation. The only way to not be too vulnerable in case Lindsey doesn’t mean what Kelley _thinks_ she means. “I don’t really know Russell, but some guys are into pegging. You should bring it up, for sure.” 

The room falls silent, neither one of them sure of how to read the other. Lindsey fights back her frustration, thinks about dropping it. But it’s Kelley, and they’re friends. It’s Kelley, with a whole history of being completely unbothered by sleeping with teammates. But it’s Kelley – Kelley’s who such a natural flirt, that really, can Lindsey read anything into how she acts around anyone? Ever? This thing though, it’s been more than that. Lindsey’s gut tells her she’s not misjudging the signs. She rolls over, so close that she can feel Kelley’s breathing, and this time, she wishes she could see Kelley looking at her. “Kell.” Her voice is barely above a whisper. “You know… you know that’s not what I mean.”

Maybe. Maybe it’s not what Lindsey means. And maybe Kelley is fully aware of this, because Lindsey hasn’t shied away from touching her, cuddling with her, looking at her. But that doesn’t mean Lindsey knows what she’s saying. What she’s doing. What she’s on the precipice of getting into. The repercussions. The way she can never really go back. The way it might could change how she sees herself as a person, in a way that maybe she’s not prepared for. Things have been rough between her and Russell, but that doesn’t mean…

“Kell.” Lindsey’s hand finds her hip, and it feels grounding, the way Kelley’s so small but solid under her fingers.

It doesn't feel grounding to Kelley. _God, she’s gonna say it_ , Kelley thinks. She’s hot all over and stomach feels funny and her breathing is too fast and she knows this. And she knows Lindsey knows, too. 

“If you don’t want to, I get it.” The uncertainty that creeps into Lindsey voice hurts Kelley’s heart. “It’s fine,” she continues. “Really. It’s just, who else am I gonna ask, ya know?” There’s something in Lindsey’s intonation that contradicts how casual that last sentence was supposed to come off.

“God, Linds, that’s not it. At all.” Kelley’s voice might be breathier than Lindsey’s ever heard it. “I want to. I really fucking want to,” Kelley’s words tumble out in one rushed run-on sentence, and she hears Lindsey exhale along with her.

“I thought maybe I’m not your type,” Lindsey mumbles, relieved.

“You’re kidding, right?” Lindsey just scoots closer and buries her face against Kelley’s arm, suddenly shy. “You’re hot as hell.” Kelley’s disappointed in herself for that. It wasn’t complimentary enough. She could have done better. She _should_ have done better. She has a fucking Stanford vocabulary, for Christ sake. Alluring, stunning, captivating, magnetic. That’s it. Lindsey is a _magnetic_ force. “You’re like every lesbian’s… ” Kelley decides not to be crude “… type.” Kelley runs her free hand across Lindsey’s cheek reassuringly. “I just- I just feel like you should think about it and be _sure_. Like, it’s not a big deal, but it _is_ a big deal, ya know? Because you’re - ” Well come to think of it, Kelley doesn’t know how Lindsey identifies. “And you have a-”

“He’s… I don’t know what he is,” Lindsey interrupts. “But he’s not here, or… I’m not there, rather. There’s a reason I’m not there.”

It’s true. Lindsey’s gone out of her way to not have to see him, but it doesn’t make that nagging feeling in Kelley’s brain go away. “Just think about it first, I mean, really. I don’t want you to regret anything. I don’t want to be the reason you hate yourself in the morning. I need you to be sure.” Kelley’s been that reason for people before. It doesn’t feel good. She can’t be that reason for a teammate. _Especially_ not for Lindsey.

* * *

**ISO: Day 10**   
  


Lindsey doesn’t bring it up the next day, or the next. It’s hard for her not to, because she’s _not_ unsure. It’s that she feels this strange responsibility to Kelley – to honor a request that seemed important – so Kelley knows she’s given this the thought it deserves. But she’s sure. She’s sure when she hops up on the counter and watches Kelley hum and dance as she cooks, and all she can think of how much better that view would be if Kelley were naked. Or maybe with only an apron on. That's a southern fantasy Lindsey thinks she could get fully behind. She thinks about it when Kelley bends over to set the table, stretching across to the other side instead of just walking around like a normal person. She thinks about it every time she’s in the shower – the only place she can be alone – except she catches herself wishing she _weren’t_ alone in there. She thinks about it when Kelley’s head is in her lap – which is seems to be pretty much anytime they’re on the couch together now – because Kelley has no intention of shying away from Lindsey. But Kelley doesn’t say anything either, more comfortable pressing Lindsey physically than verbally.

* * *

Kelley’s standing by her nightstand, wrapped in a towel, taking her jewelry off before bed. Another day down. Another day she's thankful she doesn't have to workout alone, or come back to an empty apartment, or wake up and feel numb. Another day she's thankful for Lindsey - for her laugh that fills rooms, for her playfulness that keeps Kelley on her toes, for her intensity that pushes Kelley to be better, for how easily she fits into Kelley's new normal. She doesn’t even notice Lindsey leaning against the wall on the other side of the room until she hears a voice, almost too small to be Lindsey’s.

“I’m sure.” 

She spins around to see Lindsey standing in the shadows holding the harness and dildo.

And Lindsey is, about everything except feelings. About how she’s supposed to _not_ feel things. About how Kelley can so casually sleep with someone once or for years and manage the situation to where everyone walks away unscathed. Because even in this short time, how could she _not_ develop feelings? Kelley makes her laugh. Kelley makes her believe that she can relax and be her authentic self. Kelley respects her. Kelley takes care of her in all the little ways that he never has. And Kelley is absolutely intoxicating – both physically and otherwise. The drive that pushes her out of bed before the sun’s all the way up even though she has all day to get that workout in. The sarcasm that can’t quite hide the fondness she holds for Lindsey. The way she embraces her own neuroses and is so damn comfortable in her own skin. 

The timing of it all isn’t lost on Kelley. Lindsey spent hours on Zoom with Sonnett this morning. She almost cried she misses Sonnett so much. Kelley has to remind herself that this is just sex to Lindsey. She can’t get attached. Feelings aren’t allowed here. She’s here to let Lindsey use her, basically. To let Lindsey play out whatever fantasy she’s stuck on, that probably has something to do with Sonnett. That’s it. Nothing more. And she’s ok with that. Mostly.

Lindsey clears her throat. “I um… there are so many straps. I didn’t even know where to begin to figure it out,” her voice falters.

Kelley sits on the edge of the bed. “Yeah, that one’s confusing. Come here,” she says softly. Lindsey stands before her and Kelley waits. Waits for her to lift that comfy gray tank over her head. Waits for Lindsey to slide off those short shorts that make Kelley question what good – and bad – things she’s done to deserve seeing So. Much. Leg. And then Lindsey’s left with nothing but that gold chain hanging around her neck. The dappled light accentuates her muscles, making her body seem even more forbidden. She’s breathtaking. Kelley draws in a deep breath to ground herself, takes the dildo from Lindsey, and sets it in the harness. She helps right the straps so Lindsey can step in, and heart pounding, pulls it up as Lindsey watches. She adjusts it as best she can, hands brushing Lindsey’s hips and ass. “What do you think? Is it ok?”

Lindsey shrugs as she nods, having no idea, really. Suddenly, this seems like a bad idea. She doesn’t know what she’s doing, she doesn’t know how, she didn’t even know how to put it on. She feels like she looks ridiculous. And yet, the way Kelley is looking at it, and at her, like she’s the most desirable person she’s even seen, like she wants this too, it's enough to make Lindsey swallow down at least some of her fear. 

“Twirl,” Kelley says, leaning back on the bed.

“Kelley,” Lindsey rolls her eyes and blushes, but Kelley’s grin is so devilish, it makes her laugh. And she spins round.

“Fuck,” Kelley groans. She sits back up, running her hands up Lindsey’s thighs, and Lindsey shivers. “You look so good.” She takes Lindsey's hand and tries to pull her a little closer. 

“I- I- I- I don’t wanna crush you.” Kelley’s so small; she looks even smaller sitting there before Lindsey, and the thought overwhelms her, pressure building in her chest.

Kelley looks up at her, brow furrowed, and shakes her head. “You won’t.” She squeezes Lindsey’s hand to reassure her. But the worry lines on Lindsey’s forehead are still deep. Kelley stands, stepping into Lindsey’s space until the dildo presses into her, then reaches around Lindsey for a small mason jar on the nightstand. “Ok, ok.” her voice is quiet as she gives in. New plan. No big deal. Kelley backs Lindsey towards the over-sized chair in the corner of her bedroom, still not letting go of her hand. “There’s a learning curve. This position though, it should be easier.” She keeps pressing into Lindsey until Lindsey’s calves hit the back of the chair and she sinks deep into the soft cushion. 

Kelley staring at her should make her uncomfortable – Lindsey hates people starting at her – but it’s oddly reassuring, to feel wanted like this. Kelley kneels before Lindsey and starts to spread lube from the head of the dildo down the shaft. “What’s that?”

“Oh, I make my own lotion that doubles as lube,” Kelley says, working her hand along the shaft of the cock, watching the rise and fall of Lindsey’s chest as Lindsey watches her. 

Lindsey giggles, momentarily breaking the tension. “ _Of course_ you do.” She shouldn’t have expected anything less from her crunchy teammate. But then Kelley runs her tongue across the head, mumbling something about it being vegan and Lindsey shudders, all the tension returning. She hasn’t even done anything, but she feels like her calves are cramping and her hamstrings are too tight, and her abs are flexed and…

… and Kelley feels it, too. “Relax,” she says, kissing Lindsey’s inner thigh. That does _not_ make Lindsey relax. 

It sends a hot pulsing sensation through her core. Lindsey tugs at the corner of the towel still wrapped around Kelley. “Come here,” she whispers, and Kelley lets the towel fall. The heat expands throughout Lindsey’s body.

She kisses Lindsey’s stomach, working her way slowly up, working her way back to standing. Her fingertips graze across Lindsey’s nipples. She straddles Lindsey and uses her teeth to nip along the tendon popping on Lindsey’s neck as Lindsey rests her hands tentatively on Kelley’s hips. She caresses Lindsey’s cheek and kisses across her opposite jawline. And then she finds Lindsey’s lips. “You… need… chapstick… in this… mountain air,” she mumbles against her lips between soft, slow kisses. She needs to joke because all of this seems strangely off-limits. Lindsey’s about to fuck her, but the kissing, the fingers trailing ever-so-lightly, the softness – all of that seems like it’s not part of the allowable equation. So she stops, puts her hands on Lindsey’s shoulders, pushing her back into the chair. Kelley reaches between her legs, grabs the cock, and slowly lowers herself onto the tip. She takes her time, adjusting to the girth, her exhales through her nose becoming a little more labored. 

Kelley’s breasts are so close that Lindsey could take one of her nipples into her mouth if she wanted to. She wants to. But she doesn’t. Instead, Lindsey watches as Kelley sinks lower and lower onto the cock, until she’s riding it. Watches as Kelley bites her lip at the feeling of the bumps against her front wall, skimming her g-spot. Watches as Kelley rolls her body against it, hum-like grunts escaping from her lips. Kelley takes Lindsey’s hands from her hips and moves them to her ass. Lindsey holds on as she watches Kelley roll her own nipples between her fingers, eyes closing, head falling back. Lindsey feels like she can’t function, can’t breathe, can’t think with Kelley riding her like this. With Kelley sounding like this. With Kelley getting lost like this.

As Kelley’s legs start to shake, she falls forward, supporting herself on the back of the chair. She lets her lips brush Lindsey’s; in the moment, she can’t help it. She’s close and Lindsey is so beautiful and the connection she feels with her right now, it just, it can’t be all in her mind. But then Lindsey grabs a fistful of Kelley’s hair, pulling her away, separating their lips, and Kelley thinks she _gets_ it.

She’s so close, maybe even closer now that Lindsey’s tugging on her hair like that, but this was never supposed to be about her. This was supposed to be about Lindsey and what Lindsey wants to feel. She’s not really touching Kelley, won’t kiss Kelley anymore. This has always been about that power dynamic Lindsey needs to play out, Kelley thinks, and this position isn’t going to give her what she craves. She slows down, lets herself come down. “Bed?” she whispers.

Lindsey’s eyes drift up from Kelley’s neck, a little wild, but there’s concern in them.

Kelley stands, helps Lindsey up with her, and guides her back to the bed. She sits down, adjusts the harness so she can rotate the dildo for a better angle, and turns around.

Seeing Kelley on all fours makes Lindsey feel like her heart has stopped beating, the burning in her chest almost as overwhelming as Kelley’s naked body. Lindsey’s eyes follow Kelley’s neck, down her spine - her back free of the freckles that cover her face and her arms and her chest - over her perfect ass. It feels like she’s grasping for air after running the PACER. 

Kelley reaches back to guide Lindsey to her, but stops herself as Lindsey traces that same line, slowly, but with her fingertips this time. She ends with her hands digging deep in Kelley’s butt cheeks, marveling at how round and full and hard they are. “Georgia peach,” she murmurs, not realizing that she just said it aloud until Kelley’s raspy laugh fills the silence. Lindsey’s face burns with embarrassment for a moment, but Kelley’s laugh is so easy and light, like it was designed to put her at ease. 

“I’ve got _such_ a nice ass,” Kelley says proudly, shimmying a little in Lindsey’s hands.

“You really do,” Lindsey agrees, thumbs massaging into the muscle, marveling at the view. Kelley just laughs again. It’s full, from deep in her belly, and it contains all of her confidence, all of her pride

“More lube,” Kelley instructs, “just slather it on. Can’t use too much.” She watches over her shoulder in anticipation, more aroused by Lindsey looking at her than she is by Lindsey’s hand running over the shaft. “Linds, you are _gorgeous_.” Her voice drops, all gravely and low, and Lindsey’s stomach flips, because every time Kelley says it, it sounds like she means it. He hardly ever tells her, and when he does, it doesn’t ever sound like he means it.

Lindsey continues tracing Kelley’s spine with her fingertips until Kelley tilts her ass up, pressing it into Lindsey, encouraging her out of her trance. Lindsey takes the cock in her hand and runs it down between Kelley’s cheeks until she’s at Kelley’s opening and Kelley’s breathing hard enough for Lindsey to hear. She slides in hesitantly, just a little, and the noise Kelley makes is an octave higher than it was earlier. It takes her a minute to get the hang of it, but soon Kelley is begging her for more that just shallow thrusts. When Lindsey hits her with that long stroke, rocking Kelley onto her forearms, the moan she draws from Kelley rings in her ears, mixing with the throb of her own heartbeat. They find a rhythm, Kelley rocking back into her, Lindsey’s ragged breath almost matching Kelley’s. As Lindsey’s confidence grows, she alternates with more short thrusts, teasing Kelley. Lindsey feels her own wetness pooling between her thighs as Kelley pleads for her to go deeper. And then faster. Kelley reaches under herself and finds her clit. She never anticipated Lindsey’s hand would end up on top of hers, as she came apart. She never anticipated Lindsey would lift her slack body upright, back against her chest, and slowly help bring her down. She never anticipated how hard it would be to try to breathe normally again with Lindsey’s lips on her ear.

Kelley turns around, still on her knees. Even in the dimly lit room, the sweat on Lindsey’s brow and between her breasts glistens. Kelley doesn’t break eye contact when she sucks her fingers clean, or when she takes Lindsey’s hand and does the same. She doesn’t break eye contact to unbuckle the harness and toss it aside. It’s that magnetic pull Lindsey has, holding her in this grip again. “Can I return the favor?” Kelley asks hoarsely, creeping closer to Lindsey until her sensitive nipples are brushing against Lindsey’s damp skin. She brackets Lindsey’s hips with her hands, but she’s met with a shake of the head. “It doesn’t have to be with that, just let me - ” Kelley slides a hand in between Lindsey’s legs, and Lindsey feels like her knees are going to buckle. 

“I’m good. Really,” she chokes out, and Kelley backs off, worried that she’s overstepped her bounds. 

********

“Did I do something wrong? Was it not… was I not… good?” Lindsey’s voice cracks with worry. As much as she wants to know, she doesn’t want to talk about it, but she can’t sleep.

Kelley has been trying to stay away, crawling into bed and making herself as small as possible, trying to make this less awkward. “Linds,” shes says softly, turning over towards her and reaching out to find her hand in the dark. “Are you kidding me?” Lindsey scoots across the bed, cuddling into Kelley, all needy and insecure, their naked limbs tangled up. “You know I- why would you think that?”

“You moved. Like you weren’t enjoying it.”

“ _I_ was about to orgasm,” Kelley tries to assure her. “That was for you, not me.”

“What do you mean?”

Kelley doesn’t know how to say what she means. Or would rather not say what she means. She hates communicating her thoughts and feelings. She’s not good at it. It’s probably why her relationships don’t last. “It um, didn’t seem like it was doing anything for you. Like you didn’t want to touch me. You didn’t want to kiss me. I just thought doggy style would be better for you.” By better, she means less personal. Kelley leaves that out. As it is, she feels like she’s said too much.

“I wanted to touch you more,” Lindsey whispers. “I just didn’t know what was ok. I’ve never done this.” She knows Kelley probably thinks she means be with a woman. What she really means is a friends with benefits thing. She wanted to keep kissing Kelley, too, but she leaves that out.

Kelley caresses Lindsey’s cheek. “Hey,” her voice is quiet, and tender in a way Lindsey has rarely heard. “You were so good, Linds. You made me come. It’s like I still feel you inside of me. But I need you to know that you can do what you want. Touch me if you want. Say what you want, what you’re thinking. You can tell me anything. Ask me anything. I want you to be able to talk to me. I want you to be comfortable. I just worry about pushing you.” So much of Kelley’s worries come tumbling out.

“You’re not,” Lindsey promises. “I made the first move. Don’t forget that, O’Hara.” There’s a hint of cockiness in her voice, knowing that Kelley, player that she wants everyone to think she is, did not make this happen.

Kelley chuckles at that, trying to blow the comment off, but her cheeks burn because it is the truth. Lindsey has been pushing this – holding her at night, flirting, staring, touching, cuddling. If she were single, if Kelley knew that she was gay or bi – for sure – it would have been different, she tells herself. She has no problem pursuing women. She’d have no problem pursuing Lindsey, right? Right. Or maybe wrong. Maybe Lindsey means more… She’s starting to spiral, her thoughts betraying her and filling her with doubt. 

Lindsey brings her back to reality. “You’re so goddamn hot,” Lindsey mumbles against Kelley’s neck. “Like, I knew, but I didn’t _know_ , know.”

“How could you not know,” Kelley feigns indignation. “They asked me to be on the cover of the Body Issue! I know you saw the photos. Even if you didn’t go buy my issue – which fuck you if you didn’t – Sonny _had_ to have shown you.”

“The life-sized cutout you had ESPN send her? Yeah, couldn’t miss it in her apartment. She tried to hide it under her bed when I came over, but your feet were sticking out,” Lindsey giggles. “Hey, how did your girlfriend not care that you sent that to Sonny knowing…” Lindsey trails off. “Or did she _not_ know that you sent it. Or did she not know that you two used to hook up.”

“She knew. Everything. She was there when I asked them if it was possible to mail a cardboard cutout.” Kelley can’t hide the sadness in her voice as she continues. “She’s not a bad person. She wasn’t a bad girlfriend. She wasn’t jealous. And I don’t cheat. I just didn’t want to move. I know that sounds like I didn’t want to commit, but that’s not it. I guess I’m ok with long distance, used to it or whatever, and I don’t understand why everyone else isn’t, too.”

“Would you go back to her? If she were willing to change her mind about it?” Lindsey feels like she’s prying, but she also wants to _know_ Kelley, all the secrets and feelings that Kelley keeps buried inside.

Kelley lets out a long breath. “Someone gave me some advice once. Don’t go back to a relationship that ended. I don’t know if it’s the right advice or not, but I’ve always stuck to it. So… no.” The silence hangs between them uncomfortably for a few minutes as Lindsey runs her fingers back and forth across Kelley’s back. “I have all the prints, you know,” Kelley’s typical self-assurance and mischief returns. “They’re in one of those boxes. We can look for them tomorrow.”

“Why would I want to do that?” Lindsey asks, and Kelley’s indignation grows. “I have the real thing here. And she has a soccer ball. I’m _sure_ she could just recreate those poses for me.” Lindsey presses closer, throwing her leg over Kelley. It feels so good to be this close. It feels good to have Kelley running long strokes up and down her thigh.

“She might. If you ask nicely.”


	6. Baking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ... but sometimes it’s easier to keep fooling around than to talk about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back to Smutty Sundays.

**ISO: Day 11**

Kelley stands at the edge of the kitchen, watching Lindsey rummage through her pantry. She’s wearing one of Kelley’s oversized Royals hoodies and underwear. Her hair is messy and she’s barefoot. Her legs look extra tan in the morning sunlight and extra long with nothing covering them. “You’d look better in Cardinal Red,” Kelley says nonchalantly from across the kitchen, trying to return to the banter they shared just a few hours ago, before sleep got the best of them, because that seems easier than processing feelings like fear, and well, other feelings.

“Fuck, Kell, you scared me!” Lindsey spins around to find Kelley leaning against the wall, biting her lip - to hide her smirk and maybe because she’s never seen Lindsey look so good. Not even last night when she was wearing nothing. Well one thing. Technically. In retrospect, that should have been a big warning sign for Kelley, the fact that she thinks this woman looks better in clothes than without. “It’s all I could find in the dark,” she replies. It feels kind of wrong, kind of embarrassing now, she realizes, to be in Kelley’s clothes. “Would red go better with my eyes?”

“Nah,” Kelley shrugs, because literally, every color goes with Lindsey’s eyes. “I’m just more attached to Stanford. Rather see you in that is all.” It’s completely true but also, she’ll never – ever – admit the way her stomach dropped when she saw her name and number on Lindsey’s back. Lindsey blushes and fidgets with her hands. “Anyway,” Kelley changes the subject, sensing how uncomfortable Lindsey is. “Are you hungry? Cause if not, come back to bed.”

“Not really.” And then Lindsey perks up. “If I come back to bed, will you show me those poses?”

Kelley chuckles and drops her head, before looking back up at Lindsey and rubbing her chin. “I gotta lift first, honey. Make those muscles pop, ya know?” Her eyebrows are raised and there’s a twinkle in her eyes. She wasn’t expecting to enjoy how taken Lindsey is with her body. Then again, she’s pretty taken with Lindsey’s body, too, so… “Sad day for you since it’s not a lift, huh? Guess you’ll have to wait til tomorrow.” It comes out sorta sing-songy. It makes Lindsey giggle. And then Kelley lets out a big yawn.

“I- I- didn’t mean to wake you. I just wanted to see if I could make breakfast for you,” Lindsey confesses. “But, I guess I don’t really know what to make or where to start. So… yeah… Failure.” There’s a tenderness that flashes on Lindsey’s face that Kelley catches, and it occurs to her that maybe, just maybe, there’s a tiny possibility she misread things last night. “I just was laying there thinking about how Sonny probably gets up and cooks breakfast for you the…” Lindsey shakes her head, almost to herself, like talking to Kelley is too hard. “I just I thought I should prolly do that, too.”

 _Fuck it, O’Hara, the woman is talking about making you breakfast_. She saunters across the kitchen, biding her time to give Lindsey a chance to _not_ be so damn soft, and determined to stop that feeling of uncertainty right in its tracks. Or at least try to. To push Lindsey a little closer to showing her hand. She braces against Lindsey’s hips, and stands up on her tiptoes to press a chaste kiss into the taller woman’s lips. 

It takes everything Lindsey has to not melt into Kelley. To not deepen the kiss. To hide how ridiculously hungry she is to feel more after she was so scared to last night. So she breaks the kiss first in a bit of a panic.

“She doesn’t. She didn’t, used to, I mean,” Kelley corrects herself. “She never got up early. Always said this was the only place she could sleep in. We’d usually go out for breakfast, but by the time she’d get up, it was really more like brunch.” It brings back all those memories of Kelley tangled around Emily’s naked body, forcing herself to stay still until the sun was bright enough on Emily’s face that Emily couldn’t ignore it anymore and would have to get out of bed. Of all the meals they missed because getting out of bed just wasn’t worth it. Of how much fun they had together. “You’re sweet, Linds. You don’t have to. I got this.” A bit of disappointment clouds Lindsey’s eyes. “Or… wanna do it together?” The way Lindsey’s face brightens at that, Kelley feels like it’s going to be stuck in her mind, one of those meaningless, fleeting moments that, years from now, will flash before her at a random time. Someone will ask her why she’s smiling, and she’ll have to give that excuse of “no reason.” Yeah, Lindsey’s smile feels like _that_.

Lindsey’s slicing strawberries and bananas and Kelley comes up behind her, wrapping her arms around Lindsey’s waist. She feels Lindsey freeze and the repetitive sound of the knife on the wooden cutting board stops. Kelley rests her cheek on Lindsey’s back and Lindsey exhales at that added layer of contact. They stand like that as time passes, Kelley resisting the urge to snake her hands under that Royals sweatshirt. Resisting the urge to talk to Lindsey about last night. What started as a serious conversation was kind of derailed by talk of Kelley’s nude photo shoot. But she can’t bring herself to broach the topic now, so a long hug will have to suffice. Maybe she’s afraid to hear the exact thing she fears. Which is stupid. Because Kelley doesn’t typically mind being used for sex. Like at all. This time, she feels like if she’s not careful, she might end up getting hurt.

* * *

**ISO: Day 14**

Kelley’s feeling a little agitated. It’s not because their games have been cancelled and their league season seems in question. She’s still getting to play every day, and train. They’re getting good work done together with what they have. She’s not bored. The break is really nice. Maybe it wouldn’t be so nice alone, because there’s only so much TV and reading she can take. It’s the agitation that comes with uncertainty, which she’s still dealing with because they still haven’t talked. But Lindsey seems fine not talking about it. Scrolling through social media just leaves her with this antsy feeling. Everyone on Instagram is baking – homemade bread, banana bread, tarts, scones, she’s never seen so damn much domesticity on her feed. Or puzzling. That also seems to be particularly popular right now. People bragging about finishing puzzles. Like those are _THE_ activities to do with all the free time the world seems to have. She’s not going to do some 2000-piece puzzle, but she can bake. Pretty well, actually. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to join that growing trend. Because sitting there on the couch while Lindsey’s sprawled out on a yoga mat in front of her, shirtless and glistening, shorts all rolled down and tucked up to the point where she might as well be in swimsuit bottoms… yeah, it’s just not really sustainable. So banana bread. 

“You up for another friendly competition?”

Lindsey groans and picks up her shirt from the floor, wiping the sweat from her brow and what’s dripped down her cleavage. “I’m not running six miles with you again. Even Foudy said that was stupid.”

“Something else.” Kelley promises, trying not to stare. 

Lindsey rolls over and looks at her, intrigued, and by the smirk on Lindsey’s face, Kelley knows she’s been caught. “Well why’d you wait til I worked out already? Seems kinda unfair. That smirk fades to a pout and Kelley wants to kiss it away.

Kelley clears her throat. “Something completely different. Baking competition.” 

Lindsey laughs, and then she realizes Kelley’s serious. “You know I can’t bake. So what is it exactly that you’re trying to win?” There has to be an ulterior motive, because this can’t be a serious competition.

“TBD,” Kelley shrugs. Because she can think of a lot of things she wants if she wins, but none of them are in the realm of what would be considered appropriate.

Lindsey thinks this is definitely a set-up, a chance for Kelley, who hates losing, to redeem herself. “So, who’s gonna judge?”

Kelley points to her window. “We take slices to each of the neighbors whose apartments we can see. Maybe muffins would be easier, actually. Drop them off with a note telling them to cast their vote in their windows, like on a piece of paper or with shoe polish, and we’ll keep a tally. Socially distanced baking competition.”

“But aren’t most of them your teammates? That’s not fair.”

“Some of them are. A lot of them are total strangers. We’ll label them as A and B. It’ll be anonymous.”

“But it’s still not fair,” Lindsey whines. “You know I can’t cook. Anything. Like not even a grilled cheese.”

“I’ll help,” Kelley promises. “But come on, you can follow directions. It’s easy. Besides, mine will be vegan and people don’t like vegan food. I’m at a disadvantage.”

Kelley’s not at a disadvantage, Lindsey knows this. But it’s such an elaborate plan and Kelley seems really into it. It’s not like they have anything else to do. And frankly, she wouldn’t mind losing to Kelley and seeing just what that TBD is. “Fine, but in case your vegan thing sucks, I already know what I want.” Lindsey licks her lips and Kelley raises her eyebrows questioningly, eyes widening. “You’re not gonna tell me what you want, you don’t get to know what I want. Let’s fucking do this.”

They work together to find Lindsey a recipe, and Kelley gets her everything she needs – ingredients, measuring cups and spoons, a bowl, and a baking spatula. Kelley greases Lindsey’s muffin tins along with hers while grinning at Lindsey’s frustration with the recipe already. In between all of Lindsey’s protests, complaints, and questions, it’s fun working side by side. They keep stealing glances and flashing smiles, getting caught in longer stares and covering the nervousness with little hip checks. 

“Why do I have to mix things in in this order and like, one at a time? Why can’t I just mix it all together at the same time?” Lindsey says, grumpy and frustrated already. Kelley shrugs with a chuckle. “And why don’t you have a recipe?”

“Cause I have it memorized. Also, maybe this is why you ‘can’t cook.’” Kelley adds the air quotes for emphasis. “Follow the directions.”

“And why are yours going in the oven already?” Lindsey demands to know a few minutes later. The pitch of her voice grows closer and closer to a whine with every complaint. “Ugh, this is so unfair.”

“Too bad. Can’t get out of it now. A bet’s a bet,” Kelley pokes Lindsey’s ribs with a teasing finger. “No no no. That’s too much batter. Here, lemme help.” Kelley grabs a spoon and scoops some batter out, then hands her a small ice cream scoop. “Three-quarters full. So they don’t overflow. Yeah. Just like that. That’s perfect.”

Lindsey sighs, but she’s very aware of how close Kelley’s standing, body turned into her, a gentle hand on the small of her back. For guidance? For comfort? Because she just can’t help it? Lindsey doesn’t really care why, she just loves how hot her skin feels under the weight of Kelley’s hand. Shirtless cooking makes cooking more fun. Even more fun that pantless cooking was a few days ago.

Kelley hops up on the counter and watches as Lindsey finishes and adds her muffin tins to the oven. She lets out a wolf whistle as Lindsey bends over, and Lindsey turns around, lips pulled together, trying not to laugh, but she can’t hide the smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. Kelley makes her feel so good. She moves across the kitchen, stopping between Kelley’s legs, placing her hands flat on the counter on either side of Kelley. “When you decide you want me to leave, do you promise you’ll tell me?” she asks, watching the tension in Kelley’s face return.

“Yeah, but I don’t.”

“Ok, but when you do,” Lindsey says gently. And then reaching up, she squeezes one of Kelley’s traps. “You just seem a little stressed sometimes.” Kelley closes her eyes and breathes through the pain. And through the sensation of Lindsey touching her. She almost misses Lindsey dipping her fingers into the batter leftover in her mixing bowl. 

Almost. 

“Don’t you fucking dare!” Kelley catches Lindsey’s wrist right before she’s about to smear batter on Kelley’s face. They stare at each other, a battle of wills and of strength, Kelley surprisingly capable of holding Lindsey off. And then she gives a little – purposely – to pull Lindsey’s fingers into her mouth and suck them clean. She runs her tongue up and down the length and in between, swirling around the tips, letting the ridges of Lindsey’s fingertips tickle her tongue. And Lindsey is so gone from it all, in the way Kelley’s mouth and tongue work in tandem, that she doesn’t even notice Kelley’s dipped her fingers in the remaining batter from her mixing bowl as well. She smears it across Lindsey’s lips to the sound of a squeal. Lindsey licks it off – slowly, seductively. That _fucking_ tongue.

“Not bad for vegan,” she admits.

“Yeah? You missed a spot.” Her fingertips land on Lindsey’s jaw and her thumb brushes across Lindsey’s chin. Lindsey’s eyes are glued on hers. “Maybe I should give it a taste.” And then Kelley’s tongue is lapping at the corner of Lindsey’s lips, licking up the remaining batter. She runs her tongue across and they part and Kelley keeps flicking her tongue across the younger woman’s top lip like it’s an ice cream cone. Lindsey catches her tongue, sucking it into her mouth and this little sound of want escapes from Kelley. Kelley could get lost in that kiss, especially as Lindsey’s hands slide up her thighs, but she doesn’t let herself. Instead, she dips a finger back into the mixing bowl and spreads a line of batter along Lindsey’s neck. 

“What the fuck?” Lindsey pulls away, but the tone of her voice says she’s more than into it, as much as the way she slides her fingers under Kelley’s shorts does. Kelley tilts Lindsey’s head to the side, exposing her neck. Lindsey swallows hard. Kelley can feel her jaw clench and she licks a long line up the muscle, tongue soft and flat like she would if she were making a first pass through Lindsey’s folds. She stops just below her jaw when she hears a little gasp and feels Lindsey’s fingers clamp down tighter. She sucks on that spot, flicking her tongue up and down, teeth barely scraping, until Lindsey moans. “Shit!” Kelley plants a barely-there kiss behind Lindsey’s ear. “I- I’m so-”

“What?” Kelley whispers in her ear. She wraps her fingers behind Lindsey’s neck, brushing those tendrils of hair, still a little damp with sweat. “You’re so what?” Kelley doesn’t make her finish the sentence. Because even if Lindsey wanted to, she probably couldn’t in this moment. Not when Kelley’s thumb glances across her breast, making her hyper-aware of the fabric of her sports bra and hyper-aware of the way her nipple starts constricting. Not when Kelley looks so into it, even though she’s really just searching Lindsey’s eyes for any sign that she should stop. 

And there’s just none. There’s Lindsey, fumbling over her words and almost panting. There’s the flush spreading across her chest and creeping up her neck. There are Lindsey’s fingers digging into her thighs under her shorts. Kelley slides off the counter, forcing Lindsey away but only briefly. She spins them around, pushing Lindsey back until she’s pinned, and she goes back to rubbing circles around Lindsey’s nipples, feeling the buds harden under her fingers. Kelley teases her fingers under the elastic band of Lindsey’s bra, slowly scraping it up over her breasts and lifting it over her head. She glides her tongue down Lindsey’s collarbone and in the valley between her breasts, savoring Lindsey’s salty skin as she moves slowly. And then she continues lower until she’s on her knees, fingers now under the elastic band of Lindsey’s shorts. She slides them down, runs her hands back up along the inside of one of Lindsey’s legs, relishing in the goosebumps that precede her fingertips. The way Lindsey almost unconsciously spreads her legs farther open makes Kelley wet. Her scent makes Kelley’s mouth water. The anticipation of what she tastes like makes Kelley hungry to find out. As Kelley’s eyes raise back up to meet Lindsey’s, to check in one more time, to be sure, she realizes that the younger woman makes her nervous. Kelley, who’s never been intimidated by anyone in her life. Who arrived at Stanford so cocky as a freshman that it came across as a big “Fuck you,” to all the upperclassmen. Who burst onto the National Team and wormed her way into Hope’s heart like no one else could. No one’s ever had this kind of effect on her. Especially someone younger. Especially when it comes to sex,

Kelley’s always been in control. She wasn’t in control the other night. She doesn’t feel in control a lot of the time around Lindsey. Like even now, when it seems like she’s in control, but deep down, she knows she’s not. There’s something about her, about how polished she is, that makes Kelley forget her age, about the power of her body especially, that’s just a bit overwhelming. Like she’s both too much and the exact right amount that Kelley’s been craving without even realizing it all at the same time. Someone with just a little bit more. Someone who challenges her. Someone more on her intensity level. 

She grips Lindsey’s thighs, spreading them farther apart, giving herself a better angle. She sucks Lindsey’s lips into her mouth and separates them with her tongue before forcing herself to slow down so she can explore all of Lindsey, so she can be in the moment, so she can notice the little things. The way Lindsey twitches when Kelley’s tongue enters her. The way she gasps at every quick little flick over her clit. The way that the longer it goes on, the louder Lindsey gets until she’s begging Kelley to stay put.

And then the oven beeps. “Fuck,” Kelley groans. She almost considers letting her muffins burn and forfeiting this competition. But Kelley O’Hara doesn’t lose. “Don’t move,” she says seriously, squeezing Lindsey’s thighs. She runs her tongue through Lindsey one more time before hustling to the oven and right back. “Where were we?” she asks, tongue sliding into Lindsey’s opening. 

Lindsey lets out a hard breath and tangles her fingers back in Kelley’s hair so she can show Kelley exactly where she was. Kelley needs no reminding, but she doesn’t mind that tug, those frustrating huffs coming from Lindsey’s lips until Kelley tongue is back on her clit. “Fuck, Kell. You were right there.” Looking down and seeing Kelley between her legs on its own might be enough to make her come. _The_ Kelley O’Hara, on her fucking knees, sucking on her clit, so absolutely dedicated to her pleasure in this moment. That visual is overwhelming in the best way. It’s just as good after she orgasms. Kelley looks up at her from under those eyelashes, sweat around her temples, face slightly flushed, hair coming out of its ponytail, mouth glistening with Lindsey’s come. It’s a sight.

Kelley stands, wiping her mouth off on the back of her hand, and wraps her arms around Lindsey’s waist. Lindsey leans into Kelley, resting against the top of her shoulder, and whatever she’s mumbling as she comes down is muffled by Kelley’s skin. She’s still grinding against Kelley, who’s now slotted between her legs, still feeling that pulsing sensation. Kelley slides a hand between her legs. “Can I?” she asks, leaning back from Lindsey’s chest.

Lindsey’s agreement comes in the form of helping Kelley’s fingers inside her. It’s so much better than having a dick inside her. The way she can twist and touch Lindsey in different places at the same time. The way they curl up into her. The way Kelley is so responsive to all of her sounds and movements, like she knows just what Lindsey needs. They way she’s about to come again. 

The fucking oven. “Kell, don’t stop, just leave the shitty muffins!” Lindsey cries out. She’s so close. She digs her fingers into Kelley, wishing she could feel Kelley’s skin and wishing she wasn’t about to come on Kelley’s clothes. She couldn’t stop the ripples of muscle contractions around Kelley’s fingers now if she tried. Kelley presses her palm against Lindsey’s clit and she’s coming again, filling Kelley’s hand with her fluids. 

“Oh, fuck,” Kelley mutters, so turned on. “Just- just- ”

“Don’t move?”

Kelley points at her. “That.” She throws Lindsey’s muffins on the top of the stove and rushes back to her. “Hi,” she grins. “Sorry. Didn’t want you to have an excuse for why you didn’t win. But I’m back. And there’s nothing else in the oven to distract us.”

Lindsey wraps her hands around Kelley neck and kisses her. She can still taste herself. She bites down. A little too rough. A little too possessive. But Kelley’s so grabby that it feels like it matches. 

“Up,” Kelley commands, hands insistent on Lindsey’s hips. Her mouth falls to Lindsey’s nipple, hot and heavy. And then Kelley’s pulling Lindsey’s hips towards her, towards the edge of the counter, laying her back. When Kelley runs her tongue down the cut of Lindsey’s oblique, she jerks back up onto her forearms. Kelley kisses over her mons, the hair starting to fill in around her usual French wax, and then sweeps her tongue across Lindsey’s clit.

“Fuck,” Lindsey whispers. She doesn’t know how much more she can take, but she wants to take So. Much. More. Kelley starts slow and soft against her swollen clit and toys with her nipples. Lindsey’s quiet moans spur her to flick her harder and faster, to draw out those loud sounds that Lindsey holds so close. But every time Lindsey gets worked up, pulling Kelley into her, she teases Lindsey back down with gentle circles. It’s infuriating how Kelley takes her to the brink again and again without letting her topple over. And it’s so fucking good. Lindsey needs to feel filled. She doesn’t want to beg, but… “Kell. Need your fingers,” she grinds out. Kelley slides two in, tongue not faltering, finding a rhythm that matches the roll of Lindsey’s hips. She’s so fucking good and Lindsey doesn’t even want to think about why. Thankfully, Kelley’s flexed tongue, stiff and pointy against her clit, and her fingers curling against her g-spot, send her over the edge, tiny bursts of light exploding in the corners of her eyes. 

“I like it when you get loud like that,” Kelley smirks, her voice husky, as she tries to catch her breath against Lindsey’s hip. Cocky – always. But with a soft undercurrent – always. She pulls Lindsey into her, caresses her trembling thighs, tells her how beautiful she looks, which is ridiculous, Lindsey think, because she’s probably a mess right now. 

They stay like that in silence until their breathing has evened out.

“Kell, I’ve never- ” Lindsey hesitates. It’s so knew to her, this idea of being able to talk openly about this kind of thing. But the safety and familiarity of Kelley’s arms overpowers everything that’s been taught to her about what’s ok to discuss and what’s not. “I’ve never come like that before.” All she gets in return is a satisfied hum from Kelley against her chest.

If she was hoping to get some clarity – some insight into her life – from the older woman, it’s not going to happen.


	7. Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things get a little rough...

**ISO: Day 15**

“You really want to win, don’t you?” Kelley looks up at Lindsey from where she’s sprawled out on the floor, sorting through photos from the World Cup last summer. She had hundreds printed but never had the time to go through them. She looks at them wistfully, knowing in her bones that it was her last. She’ll be just shy of 35 next time around; she’s not Carli. The Olympic postponement is going to be hard enough as it is. 

Lindsey is staring out the window, waiting for the all-important endorsements of her banana chocolate chip muffins from neighbors Kelley’s never met. “Maybe,” she says coyly. “It’s 4-3, closer than I thought it’d be.”

“Come here,” Kelley pats the floor beside her, but Lindsey sits behind her against the couch.

“You come here,” Lindsey mumbles, pulling the smaller woman up so she’s sitting in between Lindsey’s legs. Lindsey wraps herself around Kelley, resting her chin on Kelley’s shoulder. Kelley leans back heavily into her, relishing the feeling of Lindsey’s arms enveloping her as they look at the photos. Through hours of reminiscing, of both the good at the bad – Lindsey’s first World Cup goal, Kelley’s concussion, Lindsey’s lack of playing time, Kelley finally shining on the world stage, the people who came to watch them, who supported them through so many ups and downs, who don’t have the same importance in their lives anymore – they laugh and cry and it feels like they’re right back there in France all over again. 

But as easy as it is to get lost in all of the memories of confetti and alcohol, exhaustion and elation, Lindsey’s hand on Kelley’s ribs and her warm thighs pressed against Kelley’s quads keep Kelley firmly tied to the present.

“What do you want when you win?” Lindsey asks, her voice low and gritty in Kelley’s ear.

When Kelley tries to protest, Lindsey puts a finger to her lips to stop her. Kelley sighs. “Can’t I just show you when the time comes?” she asks, suddenly embarrassed. Lindsey kisses her cheek, now flushed and hot, in affirmation.

* * *

**ISO: DAY 34**

“Kell, come on,” Lindsey calls to her from the couch. Rose, Sam, and Sonnett are about to do their pre-game chat on YouTube for US Soccer, and the only way she can see her friends nowadays is through a screen. The trio starts out laughing like a bunch of idiots for absolutely no reason. She loves them and misses them so much, and she almost texts Sonnett to tell her. She watches Sonnett, surprisingly, be the one to take charge and introduce them all. It stings a little when Sonnett calls Sam and Rose her best friends, but she reminds herself she is, too, she’s just not on with them right now. It’s not like Sonnett could ever replace her.

“Why’s Rose in a car?” Kelley asks, arriving on the couch a few minutes late, leaning over to look at Lindsey’s laptop. 

“A storm at her house, I guess? Power’s out,” Lindsey explains.

“Yeah, but like, why her car? Doesn’t make sense. She could just- ”

“Shhh!”

They watch mostly in silence for a few minutes, chuckling every now and then at one of the two Stooges and Sam trying to keep the conversation on topic. And then camera cuts to a photo of the storm damage Rose was talking about earlier. The tree. That tree is in Sonnett’s front yard. That yard is Sonnett’s yard. 

“She’s at Sonnett’s.” Lindsey’s voice is barely audible over the talking coming from her laptop. 

“Huh?”

“She’s at Sonnett’s. Rose. Why’s she at Sonnett’s house? Why’s she in Marietta?”

“I- I- I- don’t know,” Kelley stammers. “Are you sure?”

Lindsey is beyond sure. She’d know that front yard anywhere. 

“What are you doing?” Kelley asks.

“Texting them.”

“Linds, just wait til they’re done,” Kelley pleads with her.

Lindsey doesn’t wait. She watches Rose’s face flick back down to the screen when she had been looking out the windshield. Lindsey thinks she’s probably been staring at Sonnett, sitting on her screened in porch the whole time. It would explain why she’s been a little distracted. She watches Sonnett lose her train of thought, her voice faltering just for a second. She can’t even focus on what they’re saying the rest of the time, which is probably for the best, because watching them laugh like there’s nothing going on, like they haven’t lied, would set her off even more. As it is, watching Kelley sit there acting like it’s no big deal, is agitating her. Every time Kelley reaches out to touch her as she passes by, pacing in front of the sofa, Lindsey bristles. It takes 20 minutes after the game has started for Sonnett to text her back. By this point, Kelley’s given up trying to calm Lindsey down and is lying on her couch, rewatching the Australia match. 

**Dasani** : Can we all facetime?

It does little to assuage Lindsey, the simplicity of the text, after her “what the fuck is going on why is Rose at your parents’?” text and the string of all caps texts telling them to answer her, to stop ignoring her, that followed. Besides, the idea of seeing Rose and Emily sitting next to each other on the same screen feels like too much.

 **Linessi** : No. Just you.

A few minutes later, Sonnett’s face fills her phone. “Linds- ”

“Don’t!” Lindsey can’t take the softness in Sonnett’s voice right now, not when she feels so betrayed. “Why she’s at your house, Sonnett?”

“We’re quarantining together.”

“But why?” She knows why, deep down, even if she doesn’t want to admit it. And if she weren’t quite sure, Sonnett’s hesitation says it all. Sonnett’s body language – more fidgety that she normally is – says it all. She glances up to see Kelley studying her intently, silent, but the look on her face is pained and her lips are pressed together as she tries to avoid saying what she’s thinking.

“Why are you quarantining with Kelley?” Sonnett asks with just a touch of attitude. 

“We’ve already been over this. I didn’t have a choice.” The way Sonnett snorts at that, like she doesn’t believe it, like she knows that no one can stay with Kelley for that long without falling under her spell, is enough to distract Lindsey, albeit momentarily, as the thought of how many teammates Kelley has slept with burns in the back of her brain. “Your flights… there wasn’t a layover… you didn’t get trapped,” Lindsey stammers.

Sonnett lets out a big sigh and rubs her eyes. “Can I go get Rose?” Lindsey’s no in response is biting, so Sonnett doesn’t press it. “Rose and I… we’re… we’re together,” she finally admits.

It hits Lindsey like a ton of bricks. Knocks the wind out of her. She doesn’t even bother to think about why – why she reacts the way she does seems totally unimportant in the moment. Her two best friends. Together. “How long?” she chokes out.

Lindsey feels chest pains at Sonnett’s answer. That long. Half a year. The victory tour trip she missed. The game against the Spirit in Portland when Sonnett said she was too tired to come over afterwards. The camps, the tournaments, the time she offered to help Sonnett move into her apartment, the way Sonnett had been almost shying away from her, the looks she had given Rose that Lindsey just thought were Sonnett being Sonnett. How could she have missed it all? How could they not have told her? They’re supposed to be her best friends. She tells Sonnett as much. And then she wants to know why – why they would keep this from her.

“Can you just talk to Rose? She wants to talk to you. She’s right inside, please just let me go get her.”

“No. Rose didn’t keep this from me. _You_ should have told me.”

Sonnett doesn’t put any of the blame on Rose even though she could. “She wants to talk to you,” she repeats as calmly as she can, but she sounds exhausted.

And that irks Lindsey even more, how calm she can be in this moment when Lindsey feels like her world is falling apart. “Well I don’t want to talk to her. I don’t want to talk to either of you. You’re supposed to be my best friend.” Lindsey hangs up and turns to find Kelley still staring at her. “What?” she asks, a little too harshly. 

“You can’t treat her like that. You know how she is.”

“Whose side are you on?” Lindsey focuses all of her feelings on Kelley.

“There are no sides in this, Lindsey,” Kelley says sitting up.

“Oh my god. Oh. My. God. You knew.” Kelley’s face gives her away. “You knew and you didn’t tell me. Who else knows? Does everyone know?”

“No. But it wasn’t my place- ” Kelley starts.

“Fuck you!” Lindsey sees the hurt in Kelley’s face when she says it, she just doesn’t have the capacity to care right now. Her best friends kept something this big from her. _Sonnett_ kept something from her. A lie by omission still feels like a lie. Worse maybe.

“You don’t get to be mad,” Kelley says, trying to stay patient. They’re a lot alike, the two of them. Fiery. Saying whatever comes to mind without thinking about who it’s going to hurt. Because they both feel big feelings and sometimes, those feelings paralyze their capacity to think about anything or anyone else.

“You don’t get to tell me how I feel,” Lindsey shoots back angrily.

“I do. Because we’re doing the same thing. You lied to her. So you don’t get to be mad at them. At her.” 

“It’s _so_ not the same.” 

Kelley’s face falls. “You’re right. They’re in love. It’s not some fling. Not same affair.”

“Kelley, that’s not what I meant.” Lindsey’s tone softens just a touch, but it’s not enough at this point. There’s no backtracking.

“But it’s the truth,” Kelley says, turning away from Lindsey, trying to hide the tears starting to well up in her eyes. 

“I can’t do this. I can’t be here. I need to get out of here.” Lindsey struggles to get her shoes on, slams the door behind her, and Kelley jerks at the rattle of dishes on her shelves.

She didn’t expect Lindsey to be gone for so long. By the time the sun sets, she thinks about texting her. But Lindsey’s an adult. She’s got her phone. Kelley’s not her girlfriend. It’s not her place. It’s not her place to be worrying. It’s not even her place to give Sonnett shit about it, she decides. Lindsey’s reaction was hers alone. She finishes the game, and then antsy, gets up and cleans her apartment. It’s the most distracting way to deal with her anxiety that she can think of. It doesn’t stop her from glancing at the door every time she hears a sound outside her apartment. It doesn’t stop her from checking to make sure her door’s unlocked more than once, this nervous fear that she’s accidentally, habitually locked it. She doesn’t want Lindsey to return to find to a locked door. She knows Lindsey will come back – she has to – but it does little to quiet the fear rumbling low in her stomach. She tries to comfort herself with that thought, but it’s largely ineffective. And she can’t help but breathe a sigh of relief when Lindsey finally walks back through her door.

Lindsey looks like a combination of all sorts of emotions. Exhausted. Hurt. Betrayed. By all three of them. She’s a sweaty mess, absolutely drenched, her hair sticking to her bright red face. And still heated. Kelley can see the fire in her eyes hasn’t faded. There’s lots Kelley wants to say right now. She bites her tongue instead.

Lindsey closes the distance between them at a pace that causes Kelley to take an uncertain step back. Lindsey looks like she might actually shove her. It’s the kind of fire that if Lindsey were on a field, she _would_ shove Kelley. It’s the kind of fire that if they were on a field together, Kelley would step up to her. “Why do you always protect her?” Lindsey says furiously.

“That’s not what I was doing,” Kelley insists.

“It’s exactly what you were doing.” This time, Lindsey does push her into the wall.

It’s enough to trigger a response from Kelley, whose psyche doesn’t know flight. “You don’t get to be mad at Son for protecting Rose. Rose is your friend, too, so you don’t get to be mad at her either, because it’s hard to come to terms with who you are. Nobody wants to be gay, Lindsey. Or bi. It’s not an easy thing to deal with for most people,” she says, anger growing. “So you don’t get to demand that she come out to you on your timeline. Doesn’t matter if you’re ok with it. Doesn’t matter if you’ll still love her the same. Coming out is a deeply personal thing, and you don’t get to dictate it for someone else.” Kelley takes a deep breath, expecting Lindsey to say something, but she just stands there, staring. “And you don’t get to be mad at me,” Kelley voice is calmer now. “I kept a secret for Sonny the same way I’d keep one for you. The same way I _am_ keeping one for you. You can be hurt all you want, but you don’t get to be mad.”

If Kelley thought that would be enough to calm Lindsey down, she was wrong. Lindsey shoves her shoulder again.

“She’s on the other side of the country. With someone else. And I’m right here. I’m right in front of you,” Kelley’s voice is raw with emotion, almost pleading. She doesn’t know how to be good enough for Lindsey, to make Lindsey want her over Sonnett, and that makes her heart ache more than she ever realized it would. “What do you want from me, Lindsey?” There’s this brief flash of something in Lindsey’s eyes, like Kelley’s words register with her, but just as fast, it’s gone, and Lindsey says nothing. Kelley’s done. She has every intention of skirting past Lindsey and just going to bed now that she’s home safe. Lindsey can do whatever the fuck she wants. She can go home. She can keep fighting with Sonnett. She can-

Lindsey doesn’t use her words to answer Kelley, but it’s clear exactly what she wants. She kisses the smaller woman back into the wall. Hard. Plunges her tongue into Kelley’s mouth, and when Kelley pushes back against her, she bites down on Kelley’s lip, making her gasp. Her hands are already under Kelley’s shirt and suddenly, Kelley’s lost all will to avoid the younger woman. There’s no protest as Lindsey takes off Kelley’s shirt and only a delightful whimper as Lindsey yanks Kelley’s bra up, thumbing her nipples into harder peaks. She’s almost relentless with it. There’s no work up to slowly get her sensitive areas used to the intensity.

Kelley can’t stop her body from responding. She knows she’s there so Lindsey can take her frustrations out on someone. She knows she’s just a replacement because the person Lindsey really wants to fuck is six states away, but she just doesn’t give a shit in the moment. All of her attention is drawn to the possessive way Lindsey’s biting at her collarbone. Lindsey turns her around, her body pinning Kelley to the wall. She works her mouth up to Kelley’s neck. Every time her teeth sink into a different spot on Kelley’s thin skin, it’s a new ache that’s deliciously painful. She knows those marks are going to still be there in the morning. She _wants_ those marks there in the morning, like she belongs to Lindsey, whether they mean anything to Lindsey or not. Lindsey’s hand is a little too aggressive, squeezing Kelley’s small, firm breast, tugging at the nipple. It’s excruciating in the best way. Lindsey’s other hand dips below Kelley’s waistband. She knows she’s wet, and now Lindsey knows, as if the way Kelley bucks into her fingers didn’t already give it away. Embarrassment washes over Kelley – Lindsey knowing how turned on being handled like this makes her – but the feeling doesn’t linger for long because Kelley is so desperately horny.

Lindsey guides Kelley down the hallway towards her bedroom, in a way that feels utterly demanding, hands not leaving Kelley’s breasts. And then Lindsey’s mouth is back on hers, bruising her lips. She throws Kelley down onto the bed, peels off her still-sweaty clothes, and finishes undressing Kelley. She lowers herself down onto Kelley so that she’s between her legs with Kelley’s knobby knees bracketing her full hips. Lindsey thrusts her tongue into Kelley’s mouth and her lower body follows. Kelley’s moan fills the bedroom as Lindsey’s pelvis grinds into her.

It’s rough and grabby, passionate and primal. It’s Kelley’s nails leaving long scratches down Lindsey’s back. It’s pleasure overtaking Kelley’s senses as she loses control. It’s Kelley begging Lindsey to fuck her harder, and finally freeing herself to admit that she’s always wanted to someone to take charge of her like this. To overpower her. To dominate her. It’s Lindsey unable to hold in her own noises as she gets herself off one more time while Kelley lies beside her panting. It’s Kelley wanting to have Lindsey any way she can, and Lindsey needing something entirely different.

Kelley knows that they only had sex because of Lindsey’s unresolved feelings for Sonnett. But she never anticipated that long after, Lindsey would be cuddled up against her, hands still on her body – tracing over her ribs and the cuts of her abs so lightly, rubbing her temple, running her fingers through Kelley’s hair. And Kelley has a hard time looking past how even now that Lindsey is being gentle with her, it all feels so covetous still. She couldn’t have guessed that Lindsey’s lips would be on her neck, her jaw, her shoulders – so tender – like she’s trying to kiss away all the bruises that she’s left on Kelley’s pale skin. Lindsey wanted an escape, but it doesn’t feel like it’s an escape for her anymore. Not with the softness of it all. Not when Lindsey guides her onto her back and kisses her so sweetly. Not when she brushes her knuckles across Kelley’s cheek and looks at her like _that_. Not when Lindsey whispers “I’m sorry,” in her ear. And it doesn’t even matter to Kelley what Lindsey’s apologizing for – the way she reacted to Sonnett, the way she yelled at Kelley, for disappearing, for the rough sex – because Kelley gets it. All of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this while on a completely unrelated 4.5 hour zoom, so sorry for any typos, grammar issues, etc. etc. etc.


	8. Regrets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ... and then things just get more confusing.

For days, they don’t talk about it. They don’t talk much at all, actually. Kelley does Lindsey’s nails, and she can see the appreciation in Lindsey’s eyes, but they don’t talk about it. Lindsey convinces Kelley to work on a puzzle with her, even though Kelley thinks it’s pointless to spend so much time on something they’re just going to take apart, but it’s good activity for silence. Kelley takes her hiking, but they don’t talk there either. It’s Kelley’s favorite trail, but she doesn’t tell Lindsey that, doesn't share that part of her life with Lindsey, because why would she? They play card games and board games, but they're both such good sports about losing that it’s weird. Like every other time they've said they're just playing for fun, it's _never_ been for fun. Lindsey wishes Kelley were the type of person to leave music playing in the background, just to fill the space, make things less awkward, but she’s not. She’s not the kind of person to use the TV for background noise either, which Lindsey doesn’t get, always leaving her TV on when she’s alone because it makes her feel less alone. She hates feeling alone. And it’s not that she feels alone now, not quite, because Kelley’s presence counts for something – for a lot actually – but it’s just _different_. Lindsey’s extra soft with her, touchy in a way that Kelley wouldn’t doubt they were in a relationship… if she didn’t know otherwise. If things hadn’t become perfectly clear of late. But she’s gentle and she’s loving, adoring really. She’s needy and she’s clingy and Kelley loves it, but she hates it because she knows it’s because Lindsey is sad and she knows _why_ Lindsey is sad. And that stings. 

**Day 38**

Like this morning, when Lindsey wouldn’t let Kelley get out of bed. No matter how much Kelley protested, Lindsey whined harder. No matter how much she tried to reason with Lindsey that they needed to go work out, Lindsey just pouted. No matter how much she didn’t want to give in to Lindsey, what chance did she stand against that face. Lindsey held her, not physically forcing her to stay, the opposite rather. Ever so lightly – with her lips and nose pressed against Kelley’s shoulder and her breath warm through the fabric of Kelley's tank – that Kelley couldn’t bring herself to really even want to leave. And finally, for the first time in days, she worked her hand under Kelley’s shirt, just barely, settling on her stomach, not creeping any lower or any higher. 

Like she just wanted Kelley to know that she was there. 

Like she wanted to feel the rise and fall of Kelley’s breaths. 

Like she wanted another thousand points of contact. 

And Kelley let her. 

Despite her better judgement. 

Despite everything in her brain screaming that this was a bad idea because she was in too deep and digging a damn bigger hole for herself. 

Despite the fact that if she let herself admit it, she was in love with Lindsey Horan. 

Lindsey Horan, six years her junior. 

Lindsey Horan her teammate.

Who is messy, metaphorically and otherwise. 

Who is as fiery as Kelley, and well, that’s just not going to ever work, the two of them butting heads constantly. 

Lindsey Horan who has a boyfriend but is possibly in love with their best friend. At this point, Kelley still can’t tell who Lindsey has real feelings for. 

And Kelley knows she's going to regret this. All of this.

It’s just that Kelley has big feelings, and sometimes, people forget that about her sensitive side because she’s so wild and brash, so strong and unbothered, outwardly at least. Sometimes, Kelley forgets it too because her armor has become more effective over the years, not less.

“What do you want, Linds?” Kelley sighs and turns halfway over.

“Want?” Lindsey’s brow creases in confusion. “I just want to hold you. To stay in bed with you. I don’t _want_ anything. I’m not trying to get you naked if that’s what you think, I- ” Lindsey starts to remove her hand from under Kelley’s shirt, suddenly self-conscious and flushed and not wanting her intentions to be misunderstood.

“No. I know.” Kelley grabs her hand and pulls it back. “I didn’t think that. I just… never mind.” As brave and direct as Kelley’s always been, she can’t bring herself to ask Lindsey what she really wants to ask, because she feels stupid even asking. Like, it was so obvious from the beginning that they were quarantine fuck buddies, the thought of asking for clarification or to change the unspoken rules now just seems foolish. Kelley gives up and turns the rest of the way over, burying her face in Lindsey’s neck, giving up and giving in to her strong arms and her soft touch and the way Lindsey scratches her back, because that's the best. “You can, you know,” Kelley says after a few minutes. “Get me naked if you want.” She’s kinda resigned to that, coming to terms with the fact that a friends with benefits relationship with Lindsey would be preferable to no relationship with Lindsey. 

“Yeah, ok,” Lindsey kisses the top of her head, but she doesn’t make a move.

“I’m serious.”

“I don’t want to fuck you, Kell.” 

Oh. Ohhhh. Ok.

“I mean... that’s not what I mean… I mean- ”

“No, it’s cool, it’s fine, I get it," Kelley says flippantly, because she's not about to sound agitated.

“Kelley!” Lindsey’s voice takes on a tone that makes Kelley shut up. “I want to fuck you. Of course I want to fuck you. I just don’t _only_ want to fuck you. Like right now, I want to lay here with you and just… and just not do anything. I just want things to be normal between us.”

“K,” Kelley says meekly, and she tries to relax again, but she can’t. Her mind is racing. _I don't only want to fuck you?_ That's pretty much all they've been doing until lately. What does that even mean? And normal? What the fuck is normal for them? This – this is not their quarantine normal. It’s certainly not their non-quarantine normal. But it feels like things are never going to get back to normal - whatever normal means - because none of the past month or so has been normal. And yet, whatever this is, well… it’s not _that_ bad, Kelley reasons. It’s something she could live with as long as this pandemic lasts. 

Convince herself that Lindsey cares about her. 

Convince herself that Lindsey has feelings for her, too. 

Convince herself that this is real. 

Just for a little while.

Deal with the consequences when it ends. 

But seriously, what did Lindsey mean by I just don’t _only_ want to fuck you? Kelley knows she’s reading into it. Knows Lindsey doesn’t mean what Kelley wishes she means by it, but when her mind is agitated like it is now, it makes it hard for her body to be relaxed. She can’t move. Can’t squirm to try to quell the restlessness under the weight of Lindsey’s body half draped over her. She feels panicky. She feels like she’s suffocating, which is ridiculous because all she’s wanted is to be with Lindsey like this - held and safe and loved. She nudges Lindsey enough so she can squeeze out from under her.

“Where are you going?” There’s something about Lindsey’s voice that causes Kelley’s breath to hitch.

“Just- I’m going to the bathroom.” And then whatever it is moves to Lindsey’s eyes. “I’ll be right back,” she says, like she needs to reassure Lindsey, except that’s also ridiculous.

Kelley takes longer than she meant to, planting her palms flat against the counter, staring in the mirror. She feels like she doesn’t recognize herself anymore. Gone is the happy-go-lucky girl full of such confidence. She’s been replaced by a woman who’s hurting and it’s so clear on her face, now a little more gaunt, a little more tired. It’s what she deserves, she reckons. She’s slept with teammates for years, since high school, if she’s being honest, always with this agreement that no one would catch feelings. But the thing is, that agreement is the most worthless agreement in the world. You can’t just say no feelings and then expect your feelings to actually listen. She knows that along the way, people started to develop feelings for her. She ignored those feelings, found a graceful exit as soon as she realized. Yet here she is, full-blown in... well... in something, she really should stop saying love because she needs to trick her mind out of it... with Lindsey, and she has no easy way out. She could ask Lindsey to leave – and Lindsey would – but also, she doesn’t want that either. Because somehow, the pain of fucking Lindsey seems like it would hurt less than the pain of not fucking Lindsey.

She stops at the foot of the bed and looks at Lindsey. She’s so beautiful. So fucking sexy. Everything about her is just perfect. Everything except the fact that she has a boyfriend and she’s in love with their best friend and has absolutely no clue how Kelley feels. Well, that last part is probably perfect, too because it’s probably better that way. Kelley can’t imagine if she knew...

“Missed you,” Lindsey says, and it’s needy and her voice is a little gravely, and fuck, the way she’s looking at Kelley, well if this were a movie, she’d have the whole fucking audience convinced that she was in love with Kelley, too.

Kelley can’t take it. But she can sure as shit push it out of her mind. She lifts her shirt over her head.

“What- what are you doing?” Lindsey asks, sitting up on her elbows to get a better view of Kelley's breasts.

Kelley ignores her and lowers her sleep shorts. She climbs on the bed, pushes Lindsey back down with one hand on her chest. Lindsey’s hands shoot to her hips, stopping her forward momentum with her thumbs, and they stay there for a moment, staring at each other, each one almost daring the other to speak. Neither does, but Kelley knows how to speak without words anyway. She centers herself over Lindsey’s mouth. If this is just sex, Kelley can do that. Same way she’s done in a dozen times before.

If it’s only a game to Lindsey…

Well, two can play.

Kelley’s good at games.

She’s never been one to wallow in self-pity. 

She’s not going to start now. 

Maybe she’ll regret all of this when they meet again in National Team camp.

Maybe by then, this will all be a distant memory.

She’s never been one to live her life in a way that she might regret, but it seems that she might regret staying quiet about all these feeling bubbling under the surface.

Then again, she’s not going to regret Lindsey’s tongue on her. In her.

Lindsey’s tongue can rid her mind of all her thoughts.

At least for now.

Now’s good enough.

“God it’s so hot,” Kelley huffs, collapsing in the grass next to Lindsey. She may like to complain, but Kelley really doesn’t regret spending time with her this morning instead of working out before the sun began to bear down on them. It's bearing down on them at full strength now, and all Kelley can think about is how golden Lindsey's going to look. She talks that thought out of her mind as fast as it enters, and focuses on their training. Their workouts have been getting increasingly harder, but today was insane. It feels like Lindsey is trying to find a way to escape her thoughts. Kelley rolls over, ending up too close to her, their noses almost touching. “Can we talk about it?” she asks softly, squinting into the sun.

Lindsey reaches up and brushes Kelley’s sweaty hair out of her eyes. She wants to play dumb. Thinks about asking what Kelley means. Instead she asks “Why?” because that seems like a better idea, and because there really is no point in talking about it. She’s fiery. She wears her heart on her sleeve. She gets angry, and sure that anger gets her in trouble sometimes, but she also gets over things. She just needs time. It’s a balance, she thinks.

“So you can stop taking it out on your body. And mine. Not that I minded _that_ , you know, because I didn’t, but you’re going to hurt yourself. Or me. This is worse than Body by Dawn.”

“I just don’t really know what there is to talk about,” Lindsey says, and she means it. Sonny didn’t tell her. There’s nothing she can do about that. It’s not like Kelley can fix their friendship. And she’s not mad at Kelley, not anymore. She gets why Kelley didn’t say anything. That’s over, as far as she’s concerned.

“Lindsey,” and Lindsey blinks at how much heaviness is behind that one word. “I know it’s eating you up.”

“She’s my best friend. I’ll get over it.” Lindsey means that, too.

“How do you just get over your feelings like that?”

“Feelings? Kelley I- what feelings? I don’t have feelings for Sonny.”

“But- ”

“Dude, Sonny’s my best friend. That’s it. I love her. I’m not _in_ love with her. I have a boyfriend. If I wanted Sonny, I would have had her a long time ago.”

“You mean- but why were you so mad the other day?” Kelley asks, astonished.

“Because she felt like she had to keep the most important thing in her world from me. Because she felt like she couldn’t trust me. And I mean, part of that was because I was mad at myself for making her feel like that. But I don’t wanna be with Sonny. Can you imagine kissing her? Oh… well… ok yeah, I guess you can, but like… no,” Lindsey says emphatically, too shocked to even laugh about how ridiculous this conversation is to her.

She studies Kelley, the worry lines creasing her face, her eyes, questioning and sad. So unsure. So not like Kelley. Kelley’s words from the other night come rushing back. _I’m right here. I’m right in front of you._ In that moment, Lindsey couldn’t bother to think about what it meant, but now, those makes more sense. This whole time, Kelley’s thought that she was into Sonny, and more than that, it seems like Kelley's been bothered by that. It confuses Lindsey. She thought she understood what this was to Kelley, but now… well… what if she was wrong? It’s just that Kelley’s so hot and… not cold… she’s not cold at all, but cool. Uncommunicative. Unreadable. Sometimes. Like now, when once again she ends a conversation that she started.

“Can we just go home?” Kelley asks, and she sounds as exhausted as she looks, making it clear that she wants to drop the conversation.

**Day 39**

Kelley comes out of her room after being on a Zoom call with Under Armour to find Lindsey sitting on the floor of her living room working on their puzzle. “You’re walking like an old lady,” Lindsey teases her.

“I _am_ an old lady,” Kelley replies, but she’s not smiling when she says it, like Lindsey expected her too. She plops down on the couch, and Lindsey’s hand finds her calf, wrapping her fingers around and slowly rubbing up and down. Kelley’s still so tense, still so on edge, and Lindsey hates it. “If you need a massage,” Lindsey rises to her knees and stretches. “I’m happy to give you a massage.” She squeezes Kelley’s thigh right above the knee, causing Kelley to jerk, and leans forward on her. “You’re my teammate. Can’t have you training with tight glutes now, can we?” She slides her hands up Kelley’s smooth thighs, watching the change in Kelley’s face.

 _Teammate_. It stings. But maybe, Kelley reasons, it stings a little less than it would have yesterday. Besides, the thought of Lindsey’s hands on her again, knuckles kneading deep, fingertips so close to… well, so close to where her hands keep passing now, it’s overwhelming. Lindsey’s voice, deeper and so suggestive, is overwhelming. Kelley closes her eyes and tries to focus on her breathing, but what she ends up focusing on is how wet she is. Again. “I told you, we’re doing too much,” she mumbles. She both hates how little effort it takes for Lindsey to do this to her and finds it hot. It would be so fucking easy to give into Lindsey again right now, and, well, why the hell not?

For the second time in as many days, Lindsey is between her legs, and she can’t really regret that either. Or rather, she tells herself not to. She’d be insane to not want to be fucked by Lindsey Horan. On her couch. And then again on her floor. But every time, it makes her feel worse. Every time, she feels likes it’s a lot more than Lindsey experimenting, a lot more than just something to do while they're trapped here. It's especially hard when Lindsey looks at her like that, like she’s drinking every inch of Kelley in, and when she cuddles with her after. But it’s starting to feel wrong, with Russell in the picture, even though he's not _in_ the picture, a whole state a way and clueless. And maybe it’s that Kelley’s just looking for something - anything - to rationalize why this won’t work because that will make it hurt less, because she didn’t give a shit about Russell before. Now that Sonny’s not a concern, he’s suddenly at the forefront of her thoughts. Like, whenever they end this, whatever this is, Lindsey’s just going to go back to him. That stings, too.

“I’m gonna go for a walk,” Kelley says quietly, because it’s the only thing she can think to do to keep the panic and the feelings she’s feeling at bay.

“Ok,” Lindsey replies, pushing herself off the floor.

“No. I meant alone. Sorry. Is that ok? I just need- ”

“Yeah, of course.” But Lindsey’s words belie the concern in her eyes. They haven't really done anything apart this whole time, except for when Lindsey took off, and she feels bad about that. Unsettled still “Are you ok?”

“I just need a little time. To think. But yeah, I’m fine,” Kelley assures her, and she means it, as much as she can mean it. Because she is fine, as fine as she can be given the circumstances.

She wants to call Alex, to talk to her about what’s going on, to get another opinion. But she knows Alex will tell her she’s an idiot for falling for Lindsey, of all people, and besides, Alex has a whole life outside of soccer now, a life that Kelley wonders if she’ll ever have. She could call Allie. Allie would definitely be stoked to talk to her, stoked to be let in on something. Because as much as the three of them claim to be best friends, Allie’s never been her best friend, not someone she could trust with the _really_ deep stuff. There’s always Sonnett, but what’s she supposed to say? _Hey, Sonny. Remember how I gave you a hard time about keeping a secret? Well, I’m fucking your best friend. And oops, I’m in love with her, but oops, she has a boyfriend, and oops, this whole time I thought she had feelings for you, but she said I’m wrong, so sorry I didn’t believe you when you said you guys were just friends. Anyway, um, what the fuck do I do? Cause I really wanna tell her but also I really dread hearing what she’d have to say about it_. There’s no one to talk to – she can’t even talk to Lindsey despite trying – so she figures the next best thing is being alone with her thoughts.

With Kelley gone, Lindsey’s reminded of just how bad she is at being alone. It occurs to her that this whole pandemic would have been a nightmare if she hadn’t gotten herself stuck with Kelley. She can’t even make it 20 minutes alone in an empty apartment. She misses Sonny. She needs to talk to Sonny. Sonny’s going to give her all kinds of shit. Sonny’s going to be mad probably, hurt even, but Sonny’s the only one she can talk to about this.

“Hey stranger,” Sonny grins at her, like she’s not even mad that Lindsey hung up on her and then ignored her calls. Sonny’s ability to forgive so easily makes Lindsey feel even worse. Sometimes, she just wishes Sonny would yell at her. Get pissed. Show some sort of emotion.

“Hi,” Lindsey says weakly, still embarrassed. And then she rushes out an apology before she can’t find it in herself to say it. 

“It’s ok, I get it. You can be mad, Linds. I’m sorry, too. _We’re_ sorry," Sonnett says, referring to Rose.

“Emily,” she says quietly, and that’s when Sonnett knows it’s serious, “I need to talk to you. I need to tell you something.”

Sonnett just looks at her expectantly. Waiting. Quiet. Letting Lindsey take her time. 

“I um… we… Kelley… Sonny, you can’t be mad at me. I can’t handle you being mad at me right now, ok? I know I’m a fucking hypocrite, but like, please, can you just save being mad at me for later?”

“Why would I be mad at you? You know I can’t ever be mad at you.”

“But this is different.” And then Lindsey thinks she’s lost her nerve to say it. 

Sonnett jumps in. “First of all, whatever it is, it’s ok. And secondly, do you want to tell me or do you want me to make this easier for you.”

“Easier how?” Lindsey perks up.

“Just take your time and figure out what you want to do.”

“Make it easier for me please.”

“You and Kelley are a thing." Sonnett says it like it's the most obvious observation in the history of observations, and Lindsey doesn't know what exactly to make of that. Has Sonnett been thinking that they'd make a good couple? Is it just because Kelley sleeps with everyone? Or...

“She told you?!?” Lindsey doesn’t know whether to be pissed or relieved. Because if Kelley told Sonnett then maybe there’s a chance that this all means something to her…

“No. No way. Kelley’s like the best person to keep a secret. If you told her not to, there was no way she’d ever tell me.” Well, technically, they never talked about telling or not telling people, which means that Kelley chose not to tell Sonnett. That deflates Lindsey.

“Then how’d you know?”

“Lindsey. I know you, and Kelley too, better than just about anyone. I know you better than I know Rose, even. But, like, I don’t know why you think it would make me mad. I’m happy for you, Linds. I mean that.” Sonny’s reaction, while heartwarming, makes Lindsey feel even worse about how she reacted to Rose. “I’m just really glad you finally broke up with him. I didn’t think you had it in you. You know, to do it for real. But Kell… she’s like a huge upgrade from that asshole.”

“I haven’t broken up with him.” Lindsey watches Emily’s face change. “We’re just… you know… it’s not serious. You don’t get to judge me. You did the same thing.”

“Not the same. Not at all. I was single. You know how I feel about that. Does she know? Does she think you’re single?” Sonnett rambles, uncomfortable at what she thinks of as Lindsey cheating.

“No, she knows. As much as I know what he is, which is… I don’t know.”

“What the fuck, Linds. Why are you doing this?”

“Because she makes me feel good. Better than he does and I…”

“Of course she does, she’s good," Sonnett cuts her off. "I just don’t understand why you don’t leave him for her.”

“Because I don’t _have_ her. I would. Trust me, I would.”

“What does that even mean?"

“It means… it means this isn’t serious to her.” It's harder to say that out loud than it has been to think it. 

Sonnett squints at Lindsey through the phone. “So, he’s like you’re backup plan, like, so you have someone to go home to when it ends? Do you know how shitty that is?”

“Em…”

“How do you know it’s not serious to her? If you haven’t asked her," Sonnett wants to know.

“I don’t know. I just… don’t think it is.”

“Well is it serious to you?”

“I- Em how did you not fall for her?”

“I didn’t let myself.”

“But how?” Lindsey whines, and Sonnett knows then that it's serious.

“Listen, Kelley needs sophistication. And I can’t put the cap back on the toothpaste. She needs someone who will dress up and go to fancy events with her. My idea of dressing up is my dressy white tee.”

“That’s not true, you clean up nice," Lindsey protests.

“Yeah, I mean sure, I can. But I don’t _want_ to. That’s not my idea of fun. I mean, her exes are all forces to be reckoned with. I’m not. So I knew better all along. Made it… doable. She’s a good lay. That also made it… easier.”

“So… I should just… get over it? Get over her?” It’s not a question. It’s a sad statement. Lindsey's sad.

“What? No. You’re sophisticated enough for her. You’re more than enough to keep her interest. And, really, she needs someone to put her in her place. Like she desperately needs that even though she'll never admit it. I was never going to be that for her. But you? You one of the few people who can put Kelley O’Hara in her place. The other two are taken.” Lindsey chuckles at that. “What has she said?”

“Nothing. She won’t talk to me much. Lately, every time I try to show her that I want more than just sex, she just kinda shuts me down. I don’t know how she feels.”

“Welcome to the world of Kelley O’Hara. For a grown-up, she sucks at communicating her feelings. But also, if she won’t talk to you about it, it probably means she has feelings for you, too, cause otherwise she’d just be real upfront and tell you exactly where you stand. Why don’t you just ask her though?”

“It’s not that easy," Lindsey sighs.

“Seems that easy. Or just tell her you love her.”

“I don’t love her, Sonnett.”

“Yeah, ok.”

“Is it ok?”

“That you love her? Yeah, it’s ok.”

“I don’t- ”

“Just like when she’s reading, sit down and take her book away and make her talk to you. Tell her you love her.”

“I don’t…”

“You could wrap your arms around her when she’s cooking, whisper in her ear, I mean, that way it's like super cute, but also at least you don’t have to look at her. In case it goes south."

“What the fuck, Sonnett?”

“You’re kind of a chickenshit.”

“But I- I want to see her face.”

“Ok, ballsy.”

“How’d you tell Rose you love her?” Lindsey changes the subject.

“What makes you think I have?”

“Oh, come on, Sonnett. And there’s no way she said it first. It’s _Rose_.”

“Maybe no one’s said it. Maybe we’re just having fun. Like you think you and Kelley are.”

“She’s in Georgia with you. She doesn’t leave home. Like ever. She loves you. Which means you love her. So will you just cut your shit out?”

“Fine. But only cause you asked so nicely. I said it before we slept together.”

“Like, right before?” Lindsey laughs.

“Yeah, like we were naked.”

“That’s weird.”

“You’re scared to tell Kelley how you feel. That’s _weird_. It’s just Kelley.”

“Well if it’s Kelley, maybe you could just find out for me. You know, casually ask her?” Lindsey suggests.

“No," Sonnett says without hesitation.

“What do you mean, no?”

“Like… no. _That’s_ weird.”

“Sonny, I need you to protect my heart," Lindsey whines again.

“Linds, if your heart’s gonna get broken, it’s gonna get broken. Hearing it from me isn’t going to make it easier.”

“Feels like it would be easier.”

“Kelley’s good about letting people down easy. You’ll be fine.”

“That’s not very confidence inspiring," Lindsey grumbles.

“I know. And I’m sorry. She’s… she’s hard to read. But, she’s pretty good with casual, so I think that she would have said something, you know, to make sure you knew where you stood, if she wanted it to just be a friends with benefits thing. Especially if she thought you were catching feelings. She wouldn’t lead you on, not if she knew.” Well, at least that’s a little hopeful. “You should just tell her that she means something to you.”

“Yeah, cause it’s soooo easy. Was it that easy for you? Were you just like, _lemme tell Rose I love her and if she doesn’t love me back, cool, no biggie_? There’s no way, Sonny.”

“Well, no. But that’s different. It’s Rose. If Kelley’s hard to read sometimes, Rose is unreadable mostly all the time. Rose is scary. Kelley is Kelley. Listen, how 'bout you just ask her if she wants whatever y'all are doing to keep going after the pandemic is over? Or if she plans on dating after you're outta her apartment? Or if you should end things with Russell for her? Or if- "

"Sonnett!"

"What? There are so many options, I'm just trying to be helpful."

"I know. Thanks. I'll take all of those options under advisement. Now can I talk to Rose or is she still mad at me? I need to tell her that she better not be bullying you now that you're together."

Sonnett chuckles. "I know she'll love to talk to you. But also, she's probs gonna bully me more if you tell her that. Lemme go get her. Oh, and hey, Linds. I love you."

"Me, too. I miss you. So much."


	9. Baby

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She didn't mean to say it...

**Day 51**

“Fuck. Fuck yes, Linds!! Yes, baby,” Kelley moans, and the she freezes, nails digging into Lindsey’s back. She knows Lindsey heard it because her hips falter, just for a second, but it’s enough for Kelley to know that Lindsey knows.

She didn’t mean it, Lindsey reasons, at least not the way Lindsey wants her to mean it. It’s one of those things that slips out in the throes of passion. Unless it’s not. And, god, she wants it to be not a slip up. Or at least not that kind of slip. “Kell, look at me.”

Kelley wants to look anywhere but at her. Anywhere but those fucking gorgeous eyes that are now boring into her soul, seeing everything that she’s been working so hard to keep hidden. Probably. But also, she can’t _not_ look at Lindsey when Lindsey tells her to, this goddamn power Lindsey has over her that she can’t explain. Lindsey’s face is surprisingly calm, Kelley thinks, given the circumstances. And then Lindsey’s kissing her. It’s deep and passionate, not at all rough. That kiss holds everything Kelley thinks she’s ever wanted. But it doesn’t prevent her, in the moment, from wanting to crawl in a hole and die. She can’t exactly do that right now, so she wraps her legs around Lindsey in an effort to force herself to stay there physically even if she’s not there mentally anymore. She’s not going to be able to come like this. Not with that word slipping out. Not with no way of knowing what Lindsey’s thinking. Not with the conversation she had with Sonnett replaying in her head.

* * *

“I need to talk to you,” Kelley said flatly, without so much as a greeting, when Sonnett answered her FaceTime a few days ago.

“About Lindsey?” Sonnett asked, like it was written all over Kelley’s forehead.

“Why would it be about Lindsey?” Kelley asked defiantly.

“What else would it be about?”

“What did she tell you?” Kelley demanded, eyes narrowing.

“Nothing, she’s mad at me, remember?” Which would have been true, before, but it wasn’t true by the time Kelley called.

Kelley sat there in her car in the restaurant parking lot, waiting for their curbside order and staring at the screen in silence. She didn’t know what to say or how to say it. Couldn’t find the words she needed to find. Talking to Sonnett was supposed to be easy. Unfortunately, the topic was proving to be a difficult one to broach. “Ok, well, about Lindsey…” she finally mumbled, gathering some courage.

“I’m not going to talk to you about Lindsey.”

“What the fuck, Son!”

“She’s my best friend. I’m not having a conversation with you about her.”

That shut Kelley up again, her mouth left hanging open, not knowing what to say about Sonnett’s insistence. Clearly, there was nothing to _do_ about it. She wracked her brain for something else to talk to Sonnett about, to pass the time, to make it seem like there was some other reason she called. _Any_ other reason she called. She couldn’t think of a single thing to say in the moment, her mind so focused on what was going on with Lindsey.

“Not that you need the confidence boost,” Sonnett filled the silence, “I know you know you’re really good in bed- ”

“What does that have to do with anything?” Kelley cut in, annoyed.

“Well, I think you think that sometimes, that’s what keeps people around. But you’re a good person, Kell.”

Kelley didn’t know if that last part was true, she felt a little bit like a homewrecker. The first part certainly was. 

“You’re one of the best people I know,” Sonnett continued. “And you should know that you’re not a fling to everyone. Not even when you think you are.”

“What the fuck, Sonnett?” Kelley repeated. It was so obvious Sonnett wasn’t talking about herself, which only left…

“Stop being an idiot. That’s my only advice for you. Stop being a freaking idiot. Gotta goooo! Bye, Kell!”

She hung up before Kelley had a chance to ask her anything.

* * *

Kelley fakes it. And she knows Lindsey has no idea because she’s good at faking it. She had years of practice when she tried being straight.

It feels like a relief, like she can go hide now. Or shower, which is like hiding. Or something that gets her as far away as possible from the word she said. Away from Lindsey and her piercing eyes and her insistent hands and her soft lips. Her fucking lips, which are on Kelley’s neck now, not letting her flee. Kelley tries to sit up, but Lindsey just kisses her back down into the bed. “I want to make you come.”

There’s no fucking way she knows, Kelley thinks; she just left out the word again. At least Lindsey doesn’t acknowledge it. She doesn’t acknowledge the other thing, either, and Kelley’s grateful for that. Or, at least she convinces herself that she’s grateful for that. For the fact that she can pretend that it didn’t happen, that Lindsey didn’t hear it, that they can just keep doing what they’ve been doing and everything will be fine. Or fine-ish.

Lindsey makes her come. Twice. The first time takes a while, but Lindsey is as persistent as she is on the field, and whether she’s aware of it or not, she slowly forces Kelley’s penchant for overanalyzing things back into the shadows. The second time is the huge release that Kelley needed. Somewhere in the middle of it all, Kelley realizes that urge to run has faded to a dull buzz in her gut. And then, that feeling is overpowered by the desire to return the favor.

“Will you take me hiking tomorrow?” Lindsey murmurs into her shoulder as they’re drifting off to sleep, still seemingly unbothered by Kelley’s slip up earlier. It’s enough to make Kelley think she’s forgotten all about it.

“Yeah. What do you want this time? Canyons or- ”

“That same place you took me before,” Lindsey interrupts.

“I mean, I’ve taken you a bunch of places, how am I supposed to know which one?” Kelley asks.

“The one that makes you happy.”

Kelley knows immediately which one Lindsey means, but the fact that Lindsey can tell the difference puts her on edge. “I don’t know which one you’re talking about. Hiking in general makes me happy. Doesn’t matter where.”

“The place you took me like a week and a half or two weeks ago. It seemed like you really liked it. You were so relaxed. So happy. Like it was your _place_.” It made Lindsey think that Kelley was going to let her in. It still makes her think that that possibility exists.

“I don’t have a place here,” Kelley mutters, wrestling with herself over whether or not she’s annoyed by this. “Besides, there’s a lot to see in the area, we can go somewhere different.”

“I don’t want to go somewhere different. I want to go to the place with that rocky overhang,” Lindsey explains. “I like seeing you happy.” The way she sinks into Kelley’s chest, arm draped across her so she can fumble with Kelley’s fingers while she falls asleep, makes it obvious the conversation is over.

At least one of them can sleep. And Kelley? Well Kelley can go back to perseverating on every single detail of their interactions since her brain decided Lindsey needed a pet name.

* * *

**Day 52**

“Here,” Lindsey says triumphantly as they reach the spot that she pictured last night when she asked to go hiking. The spot where she watched Kelley close her eyes and breathe in nature and let go of all the stress she had been holding in her shoulders. The moment she just _knew_ Kelley had climbed up to this spot before, many times over, probably. When it occurred to her that maybe Kelley brought her there for a reason, even if she wasn’t able to verbalize it at the time. This time, Lindsey leads the way, stepping out onto the jagged crag jutting out over the forest below. She reaches back for Kelley’s hand and Kelley follows her, taking a spot on the edge, legs dangling over. Lindsey sits behind her, marveling at how Kelley’s smaller frame slots so perfectly between her legs. How easily she can wrap her up. The way her shoulder is the perfect height for Lindsey’s chin. Like they’re meant to fit together. Like she’s meant to have a woman in her arms. Like clockwork, she feels Kelley’s body relax as she stares out into the vast wilderness, and she knows she wasn’t imagining it. “What is it about up here that makes you relax?”

Kelley doesn’t know why she won’t answer Lindsey. It’s not some massive secret. This is where she came her first year in Utah after she had to miss her Grandma’s funeral for National Team duty. It’s where she hobbled to when her ankle injury looked like it wouldn’t heal in time for the World Cup. It’s the place she was drawn to after every long-distance fight she got into with Kam. It’s quiet in a different way that she can find in her apartment. There’s a static in the air that gives her energy when she’s drained. She can see nothing but trees and mountains for miles, and it helps her remember that her place in the world, and whatever she’s going through, is just a drop in the bucket. She always goes home feeling like she can breathe again, like whatever plate was pressed on her chest has been lifted, even if it’s temporary. “I’m always relaxed,” is all she says, and she knows it’s not even a good lie; she’s well aware of how high strung she is. There’s just something about letting someone know you that makes getting hurt feel a lot more painful, and as far as Kelley’s concerned, Lindsey knows her too well as it is. Every time she’s ever trusted someone, she’s ended up hurt. And it’s not like she could have avoided any of those times, with no way of knowing how those relationships would end or _if_ they would end, but this time, she knows, and she’s even more determined to keep her heart safe. As safe as she can.

Every time Lindsey feels close to a breakthrough with Kelley, that wall comes up again, and this feels no different. Like it matters to her but she won’t say why. Like there’s something that keeps Kelley from trusting her completely, but she doesn’t know what it is or how to fix it. Like she’s always on the verge of opening up, but her brain takes over and won’t let her. 

The wind picks up, blowing Kelley’s flyaways around, and instinctively, Lindsey chuckles to herself because even though she can’t see her, she can picture it. Kelley looks so ridiculously adorable with the hair at either corner of her forehead sticking out every which way. Lindsey loves it even though Kelley hates it. She reaches up to smooth them back down anyway, even though she knows it won’t work; only Kelley’s hair drenched in sweat or water can do that. But Kelley sinks back into her anyway, and the fruitless attempt seems worth it.

“Kelley, will you just talk to me?” Lindsey almost begs. “You’re one of my best friends. You should be able to talk to me.”

“That’s just it,” Kelley replies, as if Lindsey’s hit the nail on the head. Again. Teammate. Friend. She doesn’t have to guess. Doesn’t have to look for signs. She’s got the answer in black and white in front of her face. She read into it. She knows that now. It’s not all her fault, they were just too close, too comfortable with each other, too needy and lines got blurred and now here they are.

“What’s it?” Lindsey asks, confused.

“We’re friends, Lindsey. Nothing more.” Kelley looks up at her and sees what looks like hurt on Lindsey’s face; she ignores it. “You wanna go to the top or back to the car?” she asks, swinging her legs back up onto the outcropping and rising to her feet.

“What?” Kelley asks coming out of the shower. She can see that there’s something different on Lindsey’s face, even though she can’t quite place it. Some sort of worry that wasn’t there before. 

“Russell called.”

There it is. Kelley knew she wasn’t crazy. “And you answered?” The words are out before she can stop them. She meant to say a casually calculated “And?” like she didn’t care. She wants to kick herself right now.

“Yeah.” Lindsey reaches out for her hand, but Kelley acts like she doesn’t see it, busying herself with drying her hair.

“And?” There’s the response Kelley wanted, except it’s late and it comes out a little more desperate than she intended, but she needs to know. Why he called and why she answered. Or, rather, she needs to _hear_ it. She knows the answer to both.

“And he has a friend who works in the Governor’s office. He said they’re going to start closing borders to non-essential interstate travel. He wants to go up to Portland and pick me up.”

He doesn’t know she’s in Utah. Of course he doesn’t know. “Ok,” Kelley shrugs.

“Ok?”

“Yeah. Ok.”

Lindsey stares at her.

“What do you want me to say, Linds? You were never going to stay here forever. Go back to your boyfriend. It’s time. It’s past time.”

“Kelley…”

But Kelley ignores her and heads to the kitchen. She has dishes to do. She has a life to get back to. Normalcy’s going to return. Mornings with coffee for one on her balcony. Nights in an empty apartment and a cold bed. Half the dishes. Half the laundry. All the silence that heart desires. There’s talk that they’re going to get some kind of NWSL season still. It’ll be fine. 

Lindsey cringes with the clang of every dish against the sink. The sounds seem magnified and she doesn’t know if it’s her imagination or not, but she saw the change in Kelley’s face when she said Russell’s name, and she _knows_ she wasn’t imagining that. She stays where Kelley left her, on the bed, until she can’t take it anymore, until she starts to wonder if Kelley’s _trying_ to get her attention.

“What’s wrong?” she asks quietly, wrapping her arms around Kelley’s midsection, the same way she so easily did when they first started this – whatever this is. Now, it doesn’t seem quite as simple.

“Nothing,” Kelley mumbles, and she knows that’s unconvincing, too.

Lindsey covers Kelley’s wet hands with her own, effectively stopping her from completing her chore. “You haven’t been the same since I told you Russell called,” Lindsey says, calling her out.

Kelley doesn’t respond, choosing instead to focus on Lindsey’s nails. She hates being called out, and she’s determined not to bite, but she can sure as hell change the subject. “Your nails look like shit again. I don’t understand painting them if you have to do it all the time. Seems like such a waste.”

Lindsey looks past the complaining, choosing instead to focus on the way she knew, deep down, that there was something special going on between them when she got an Amazon package with her name on it, and it was filled with stuff for Kelley to do her nails. And a bunch of useless stuff too, not that that mattered, because it was cute, and it was thoughtful, and maybe Kelley didn’t want to care, but she cared and she couldn’t hide it. She thinks about how bad Kelley was at it the first time, and how mad she got at herself for sucking, so unused to not excelling at everything she tried. She removed all the nail polish and started over because she said not a single nail was perfect. The second time around, her focus was intense, her tongue slightly protruding from the side of her mouth as she worked, and it was about the cutest Lindsey had ever seen her. That seems like so long ago now. “You’re the one who ordered a whole nail salon for me. Why don’t you stop what you’re doing and come make them look pretty again?” Kelley hesitates. “Come on, Kell, you get to hold my hand while you do it.”

That alone makes Kelley want to say no.

Eventually, she dries her hands, grabs a pint of cookie dough ice cream out of the freezer and a spoon out of the drawer, and follows Lindsey into the living room. 

It’s not so bad, focusing on Lindsey’s nails. It’s a good distraction. Mostly. Except for Lindsey’s hand in her lap. She’s glad Lindsey suggested it, and she doesn’t care if there was an ulterior motive behind it. If this was Lindsey’s way of getting her to talk, it’s not going to happen. Besides, Lindsey isn’t the only one who can calculate her actions to get what she wants. She’s got the ice cream tucked in between her legs, and she’s eating while Kelley works. 

Quiet. 

Until she’s not.

“Kell, talk to me.” Lindsey’s voice is soft and steady.

“I don’t know what you want me to say,” Kelley shrugs.

“Look at me.”

Goddamn. There it is again. Kelley raises her eyes to meet Lindsey’s. Those eyes force her to speak. “It’s been fun. This has been fun, having you here.” _Don’t. Get. Hurt_. Kelley tells herself.

“Fun? That’s it?” Lindsey’s eyes plead with her.

“Mmhmm. Glad I had someone to train with.” _Don’t. Get. Hurt_. She repeats.

“Kell.” Now Lindsey’s voice is pleading with her, too. “What do you want? Tell me what you want.”

“To finish this hand.” _Don’t. Get. Hurt_. 

“Kelley…” Lindsey leans forward and runs her hand through Kelley’s hair, landing on her face, gently caressing Kelley’s cheek with her thumb until Kelley looks at her again.

“Stop, it’s not dry yet. You’re gonna mess it up,” Kelley grumbles.

“You can do it over.”

“You’re getting nail polish in my hair.”

“What do you want?” Lindsey repeats.

This time, Lindsey’s voice stops Kelley in her tracks. She recaps the nail polish and picks at her own cuticles. No one ever asks her what she wants, but Lindsey’s not like anyone else. She won’t _stop_ asking. “For you to stop asking me what I want.” The fact that she says _that_ is surprising, even to her. But… _Don’t. Get. Hurt_.

But Lindsey doesn’t let it go. “Why?”

“Because none of this is up to me. It’s up to you. It’s always been up to you. You’re the one with a boyfriend. You’re the one whose life doesn’t fit into… into this. Into me.” _Ok. Maybe you’re going to get hurt._

“Kelley…”

“What?” Kelley’s voice is sharp as she tries to cover her own pain. Sharp because she hates that all it takes for Lindsey to get things out of her is one word. Sharp because she doesn’t give into people. Because she doesn’t break this easily. Because she doesn’t let people in. “Fine. What I want is for you to break up with him. I want this to mean something to you. I want _us_ to mean something to you. I want this to be more than just sex. But I can’t make that happen. I can’t make any of those things happen. Just like I can’t make you stay. So go back to Portland. We’ll still be teammates. We’ll still be friends.” Kelley picks up the nail polish again. There. She said it. As much as she knows she’s about to hurt, and probably for a while, it’s over. It’s off her chest. And that’s kind of a relief, to know that Lindsey’s leaving and she doesn’t have to see her. For now. 

Lindsey tips Kelley’s chin up. “I broke up with him.”

It shocks Kelley to the point that she doesn’t quite know what to do with it at first. “When?” is all she can manage to choke out, because it doesn’t mean anything for them, not necessarily. But it might.

“Like a week ago.” 

“Why?”

Lindsey looks at her pointedly. “Come on, Kell. You know why.” Kelley blinks at her, not fully grasping what she’s saying. “What was I supposed to do? Pretend like what we’ve had over the past six weeks isn’t the best relationship I’ve ever been in? I’m not going back to him. I’ll go home if you want me to, if I’ve misread this, but not to him.”

“You mean…” _Maybe you won’t get hurt_ , Kelley finally lets herself think.

“Yeah. So now, tell me what you want.”

“Well um, I uh… what do you want?” Kelley deflects. It still doesn’t seem quite real. Lindsey cocks her head to the side and gives Kelley a look, forcing words out of Kelley’s mouth. Again. “I mean, are you wanting to take some time so you can single? You probably shouldn’t just jump into another thing, right? Or are you looking for a rebound? Like, do you just want to keep doing what we’ve been doing?”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“Well, I kinda need to know. I have lots of prospects, you know,” Kelley says, finally relaxing into the idea that this really is real.

“Prospects for what?” Lindsey rolls her eyes, playing along.

“You know, girlfriends. Because I’m ready for that again. And I’m good girlfriend material.”

“Is that so? In a pandemic. You have lots of prospects?” 

Kelley nods. 

“Whatever. You need to stop being so weird around me, because I like you, too.”

“I never said I like you.”

“Yeah, ok,” Lindsey pulls Kelley into her lap and frames Kelley’s face with her hands. “Then tell me to go home.” Lindsey waits, staring her down. “No? Then shut the fuck up and kiss me already.”

“You need to stop telling me what to do.” Kelley thinks she can resist those lips, at least for a little longer.

“I don’t think I do.”

“No?” Kelley asks, raising an eyebrow.

“No. I think you like it when I tell you what to do.”

Maybe Lindsey has her figured out more than she realized. Maybe she can learn to be ok with that. 

“You called me baby last night,” Lindsey says, smiling into the kiss she knew she was going to get.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Kelley mumbles against her lips, and she starts kissing her again. To shut her up.

“I like it. You should say it more often.”


	10. Birthday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ... she's still not sure if she can say all the things on her mind. I want you is easy. I need you is a little harder. I love you is out of the question.

**ISO: Day 74**

“Morning, birthday girl,” Kelley says softly as Lindsey rubs the sleep out of her eyes. She’s beautiful in the mornings, with her hair all messy and that sleepy little smile. Kelley wakes up before Lindsey and waits so she can snuggle with her as she wakes up. It’s helped her to calm down, to take things slowly in the mornings, when no one’s been able to slow Kelley down before. Instead of feeling the panic rising in her chest to get out of bed and get going, Lindsey’s penchant for sleeping in brings Kelley a strange sense of peace now. Lindsey’s smile is better for waking up than coffee anyway.

“Don’t remind me,” Lindsey grumbles.

“Oh you do not get to play the ‘I’m sooo old’ card around me,” Kelley warns.

“No, it’s not that, Grandma,” Lindsey laughs, poking Kelley in the ribs. “I’ll never feel old as long as you’re around.” Kelley’s about to tell her she can fuck herself for her birthday, when Lindsey’s words stop her. “I have to go back to Portland in two days.” 

Those words hang heavy in the air. Lindsey misses soccer, and she’s definitely buzzing to get back, but now her feelings are complicated by Kelley. He never complicated them. He always bitched about her going back too early, but with him, she was always itching to leave. With Kelley, it’s very, very different.

They talked about whether or not they should play for a long time. They put off making their decision even longer. There was a lot to worry about, namely injury concerns for both of them, without an adequate preseason. But they both felt pressure from US Soccer, and Lindsey, especially felt like her team needed her. Lindsey missed all of the Thorns individual and small group sessions. But now with full-team training starting, it’s time. In the backs of their minds was, and still is, the knowledge that they would only be able to see each other from a distance unless their teams meet in one of the elimination rounds, but they’ve both kept that thought to themselves.

Until now. Lindsey is the first one to break.

“I’m gonna miss you,” she says quietly. She rolls over, pushing Kelley back into the bed and runs her foot up Kelley’s calf. “I’m gonna miss these lips.” She kisses Kelley slowly because she knows it drives Kelley crazy. There are still some times when Kelley has trouble slowing down, but this period of isolation, with Lindsey, has forced her to be calmer. To breathe. To enjoy the little moments, like this one.

“Ew morning breath!” Kelley giggles, but Lindsey’s already moved on to biting on her earlobe.

Lindsey kisses her way down until she can suck one of Kelley’s nipples into her mouth. When she scrapes her teeth over the sensitive skin, Kelley lets out the neediest moan. “I’m gonna miss that sound.”

“We can arrange for you to hear that sound on the phone, I think,” Kelley offers. A consolation prize is better than nothing.

“I’m going to miss the way you smell,” Lindsey continues working her way lower. “And the way you taste,” she mumbles right before she swipes her tongue through Kelley’s folds. 

“It’s not that long,” Kelley squeaks out. “What else are you gonna miss?” Lindsey’s done such a good job of using her words when Kelley can’t. For someone who is so supremely cocky in almost every aspect of her life, she’s not with Lindsey. She struggles to believe that they’re something real, that Lindsey isn’t just going to go back to her old life, all of it. Hearing how much she’s wanted – and how much she’s going to be missed – is a difference-maker for her fragile psyche.

“I’m gonna miss you riding me,” Lindsey says between little flicks to Kelley’s clit. Getting to see Kelley’s perfect breasts bounce, and to watch her come, is turn-on and confidence-booster than she had never imagined.

“Gonna miss that too,” Kelley manages to say as she bunches the sheets up in her fists. 

“I’m gonna miss hitting it from behind,” Lindsey continues.

Kelley can’t help but giggle at that, at how crass Lindsey is, so much less reserved than she ever could have imagined. “Is that what you’re gonna miss the most?”

Lindsey’s tongue stops, and she places a soft kiss on Kelley’s mons before resting her chin on her hand and looking up at Kelley. “No,” she says, suddenly sincere. Her index finger absentmindedly traces a figure-eight pattern on Kelley’s stomach as she thinks. “This. This is what I’m going to miss the most.”

“This?” Kelley asks, confused.

“Lying in bed with you. But doing nothing. Falling asleep. Waking up. Not a care in the world. When you’re the most you. Relaxed and happy. No barriers up. Just you, stripped down, literally and figuratively. Just talking. And not talking. I could do nothing with you all day and go to bed feeling like I had a perfect day.”

Kelley runs her fingers through Lindsey’s hair affectionately. “Me, too.” She knows it’s a pathetic response, but sometimes – a lot of times – words are hard.

“I’m going to miss the sex. Clearly, I’m going to miss the sex. But I’m going to miss _you_ , Kell.”

“Come here,” Kelley whispers. It feels different when Lindsey says it than in has when anyone else has told her that they’re going to miss her. It doesn’t feel like there’s anything else attached to those words. No expectation that she _do_ something. No expectation that she fix a situation that can’t be fixed. It’s just Lindsey, sharing how she feels, and that’s it. And finally, Kelley feels like she can do the same. Because in the past, she’s always refrained from saying those words for fear that it would lead to a fight. _If you were really going to miss me, you wouldn’t go,_ rings in her ears. Those words cut through her heart. But with Lindsey, she’s safe to say what’s weighing heavily on her mind. She pulls Lindsey towards her, hands cupping her face. “I’m going to miss you, too.” It feels so good to be able to say that without any guilt attached to the words. Kelley kisses her, deeply this time, parting Lindsey’s lips and letting her tongue explore Lindsey’s mouth, until Lindsey’s nipping at her, causing them both to smile. 

Kelley’s about to roll out of bed to go make breakfast when Lindsey tugs her back. “I know what I want for my birthday,” Lindsey’s devilish grin is infectious. Intriguing. 

“Can I guess?” Kelley falls back on her. And then without waiting, “To not get out of bed all day.”

“No. I absolutely want to get out of bed.”

“Well fuck, I kinda make that workout extra heavy yesterday so we could get away with not running today.”

“Oh, I don’t want to _go_ anywhere,” Lindsey assures her. “And we are not burning any calories running. Lifting though, maybe,” Lindsey bites on the inside of her cheek as she ponders that. “I, um, I was thinking we need a little tie breaker. I beat you on our long-distance run, your banana bread was supposedly better than mine. I can’t very well go back to Portland and leave this as a tie. Ties are bullshit.”

“Okkkk. What did you have in mind?” Kelley asks, already invested because it’s a competition.

*****

“Fuck, Kell. I’m a goddamn genius,” Lindsey moans, hands gripping Kelley’s desk. “Tell me I’m a goddamn fucking genius.”

“You. Are. A. God. Damn. Fucking. Genius.” Kelley grunts out between thrusts.

Kelley was expecting the end result of whatever plan Lindsey had concocted in her mind to be sex. She didn’t expect the entire plan to be sex. In every room, on every surface, in every position.

For a moment, the only sounds are their heavy breathing and the slapping of Kelley’s thighs against Lindsey’s ass. “Pull my hair.”

Kelley stares up at the ceiling for a beat. Lindsey is so, so much, pushing the envelope of what Kelley thinks she can handle. A level of sexy and free that Kelley hasn’t experienced. She lets go of Lindsey’s nipples and gives the woman what she wants, pulling her hair into a ponytail, and tugging her back with just the right amount of roughness. 

“Fuck, yes!” Lindsey arches her back at the tingly pull on her scalp. “Harder.” Kelley’s other hand traces the curve of Lindsey’s spine down, gripping her hip. “Yesyesyes!” The pitch of Lindsey’s voice rises and Kelley knows she’s close. And then Kelley spanks her. A solid hit that reddens the skin of Lindsey’s ass. “Oh fuuuckk yes!” She’s coming within seconds. Kelley lies against on Lindsey’s back, her fingers slowly stroking Lindsey’s clit at they catch their breath together. But Lindsey turns over under her before she can come again.

“My turn.”

“Fine, but we’re not done with this desk.” Lindsey lifts Kelley easily, and Kelley wraps her legs around Lindsey’s waist, placing playful kisses on her face as Lindsey carries her to the kitchen. “Wait, I fucked you on the counter already. This doesn’t count, I win.”

“That was the bathroom counter, sweetie. Kitchen counter is fair game,” Lindsey grins, laying Kelley back and pushing her thighs apart. Kelley drops the argument when Lindsey’s tongue hits her center. For a split second, before she gets lost in Lindsey sucking on her clit, she wonders if there’s something they might fight about down the road that Lindsey’s tongue couldn’t make her drop, which is saying a lot, considering just how much Kelley loves being right. But maybe happy is better than right when happy involves coming all over Lindsey’s face and the kitchen counter.

“Ok,” Kelley props herself up and catches her breath. “God, you’re a mess. We need a timeout for some food.” 

“Fine. I win.”

“What?”

“There are no timeouts in soccer. There are no timeouts in this.” Lindsey winks. “Sorry for ya.”

“Lindsey. Come on. We can’t fuck all day and not take a break for some sustenance. Also, we’re going to be dehydrated.”

“Maybe you can’t, but I can.”

Kelley falls back on the counter in exasperation. “You did not specify this in the rules before we started.” Lindsey shrugs at her, unmoved. “Come on, if you want to keep this up all day and night, we can take breaks.”

“Fine,” Lindsey rolls her eyes, wiping her mouth on Kelley’s thigh. “Feed me.”

A few minutes later, Kelley’s sitting on Lindsey’s lap at the kitchen table. “We’ve got 25 minutes til the sweet potatoes are ready. And it’s my turn,” Kelley grins. She keeps one hand wrapped around Lindsey’s neck and grabs the glass of water she poured for her off the table. “Drink. Good.” Kelley drops to her knees and Lindsey spreads her legs.

“I’m going to ruin your upholstery,” Lindsey warns her as Kelley nibbles her way up Lindsey’s leg.

“Don’t play on my OCD to try to win, you’re not going to win.” Kelley bites at the sensitive skin of Lindsey’s inner thigh. 

Lindsey brushes Kelley’s hair out of her face. “Hey,” Lindsey gets Kelley’s attention again, “you look so fucking hot on your knees.”

Kelley smiles. “Ruin my fucking chair, woman,” she shouts, burying her face between Lindsey’s legs.

“Ok, that was amazing. Annndddd I need a nap now,” Lindsey pushes back from the table and stretches. Kelley takes her plate to the sink, lips pressed together hard as she tries not to laugh. She comes back and pulls Lindsey up, shaking her head. “Don’t say ‘I told you so,’” Lindsey warns her. “It’s my birthday. Just put a movie on and cuddle on the couch with me and enjoy it.”

“I wouldn’t dream of telling you that even professional athletes can’t go for that long without a break. And I would love to nap with you on the couch.” Kelley won’t admit it, not now at least, not yet, but Lindsey holding her is her favorite, her thing that she’s going to miss the most. She feels so settled with the weight of Lindsey’s arm and leg thrown over her. So safe. Like she finally doesn’t have to be the strong one, the protector. “What do you want to watch?”

“You pick.”

“I’m going to sleep so I’m ready for round… whatever the fuck round we’re on. You pick.”

“Schitt’s Creek.”

“Ok, that’s bullshit. You know it’s my favorite and I’m going to end up watching it, not napping.”

Lindsey throws her hands up and then pulls Kelley down next to her. “I don’t think you give a damn about winning anyway,” she breathes into her hair. “You’re enjoying the process. And that matters more than the product, right?” she asks, paraphrasing Vlatko.

“I think you’re forgetting I was voted the most competitive person on the team.”

Lindsey takes the remote from Kelley’s hand to find the episode they left off on, and settles against the back of the couch with Kelley pressed against her front. “Ok, baby, whatever you say.” One of the things she loves about Kelley is how easily that fire fades with her. Kelley’s a different person. Softer. No one else gets to see it. No one else would believe it. It’s why she’s pretty confident Kelley loves her. She’s pretty sure she loves Kelley back. She for sure loves Kelley’s back. She traces her fingers along the cuts of her scaps, and Kelley, ever ticklish, squirms. It’s the only proof she has that Kelley is still awake. She loves how responsive Kelley is to her touch, but she decides to leave Kelley alone so she can sleep as she wants and she tries to memorize every freckle instead.

*****

“You already fucked me up against the wall,” Kelley complains, not even really try to stop Lindsey from pressing into her space.

“This is a door,” Lindsey says matter-of-factly as she lifts Kelley easily.

“Fuck, Linds, I’m not going to be able to walk tomorrow,” Kelley moans.

“What happened to earlier when you were screaming at me to never stop fucking you?”

“That’s still valid. I’m just not going to be able to walk.”

Lindsey laughs into her neck. “Yeah, well I’m finding out about muscles in my hips I didn’t know existed, so tomorrow, we stay in bed. All day. For real.”

“Ok, and we’ll order- oh fuck!” Kelley bangs the back of her head on the door as Lindsey slides the head of the cock inside her again.

*****

“Time out’s over. Come here,” Lindsey pulls Kelley towards the sliding glass door that leads to her balcony.

“Lindsey, no. What the fuck are you doing?” Kelley refuses to budge.

“That is still part of your apartment. It counts.”

“Lindsey, you’re naked! Get back in here.”

“Baby, I’ve been naked for like 12 hours now. This is not something that needs to be announced.”

“But people might- ”

“It’s dark, Kell.”

“But they’re gonna hear us.”

“Well be quiet then. Or are you giving up? Because you can tap out. I will gladly take this victory and spend the next six weeks thinking about what I want as my reward.”

“Oh fuck that. The Great Horan is going to fuck me on my balcony,” Kelley puffs her chest, refusing to surrender.

“That’s what I thought.” Lindsey walks Kelley back into the railing, hands on her waist. 

“Why is it my ass out here for all the world to see?”

“Do you want to come again, or not?”

“Well, yes.”

“Shut the fuck up then, Kell.” Lindsey grabs a cushion off one of Kelley’s chairs and puts it under her knees. She throws one of Kelley’s legs over her shoulder as Kelley arches back, gripping the railing of her balcony. 

“Oh god, yes. Right there. No, no fingers just… yeah. Fuck.”

“You’re getting so sensitive, baby,” Lindsey murmurs between soft swipes with her tongue. “Don’t worry, I can be gentle and we can take it slow. Stay out here for a long time and-”

Kelley hears her phone ding from inside her apartment. “I swear to God, if that’s one of my teammates…”

“What? They’ve all seen your ass. The whole world has seen your ass.”

“It’s a nice ass.”

“It so is,” Lindsey says, her fingers digging into Kelley’s muscles. “Now stop talking.”

“You’re not fucking me on the floor,” Lindsey protests.

“You fucked me on the floor!” Kelley reminds her.

“There was a rug. This is your kitchen.”

“Then I win.”

“Oh, Jesus Christ. Your floor is the cleanest floor I’ve ever seen. Fine!” Lindsey gives in, more out of pride than anything else.

“Wait, I’ll be right back.” Moments later, Kelley returns with a scarf, feeling rather proud of herself and fully excited about what is about the scene that is about to ensue on her kitchen floor.

“What the fuck are you going to tie me to?” Lindsey asks, eyebrows knitted together as she looks around the space.

“Nothing, yet,” Kelley smirks. 

“Don’t tie my hands, I like being able to touch you.”

Kelley kneels down next to Lindsey. “Shhh. I won’t.” Kelley wraps the scarf around Lindsey’s head as a blindfold and gently lays her back. Then she’s gone again. Lindsey hears the fridge open and close. Kelley grabs the non-dairy whipped cream out of the fridge. “This was for your cake, but, um, I’ve been busy, so I’ll order you a cake tomorrow. Will that work?”

“Absolutely. But what is the this you speak- ” Lindsey gasps as the cold hits her nipples. “I’m gonna need a shower after this round,” she giggles, when she catches her breath. Her hands blindly grab for Kelley, but she’s unsuccessful. “I can’t believe you just did that.” Kelley’s not done, spraying the whipped cream lower. “For the record, your shower wall is not the same as your wall wall, so don’t even think about complaining, and it’s not the same as your window just because they’re both glass. Shit!” Kelley’s tongue is circling Lindsey’s nipple, beginning to clean up the mess she’s made all over Lindsey’s body. “This is so clique, I cannot believe you… oh fuck,” Lindsey moans as Kelley’s tongue moves lower and it becomes very apparent that while Kelley’s mouth is all over Lindsey’s pussy, Kelley’s pussy is hovering just above Lindsey’s mouth. Lindsey works her way up onto her elbows, stretching her tongue to make contact with Kelley’s lips, but that has the opposite effect that Lindsey intends, as Kelley stops eating her out. 

“Not your turn.”

“It’s not fair,” Lindsey whines. “You smell so good, and you taste so good, and you’re practically dripping on me. Come on. I can’t help it. I want you so bad.” She waits in the darkness created by the blindfold that she no longer thinks is a good idea. She wants to see Kelley’s swollen glistening pussy above her face, wants to bury her face in it, but for now, Kelley’s not touching her anymore and it’s making her whole body ache with want. 

When Kelley is sufficiently convinced that Lindsey remembers how to take turns, she laps more whipped cream from between her legs. At first Lindsey stays mostly still, running her hands up and down Kelley’s thighs. But then Kelley’s tongue is stiff and pointy on her clit, exactly how she needs it to be to come, and she forgets again because she wants Kelley to come, too. All over her face. Preferably at the same time she’s falling apart. Her hands pull Kelley’s hips towards her as she stretches back up, plunging her tongue inside Kelley. Kelley lets out a filthy moan and for a second, Lindsey thinks she’s actually going to get away with it, but then Kelley pulls away, completely out of her reach. 

“Behave!”

“Kellbaby, please!”

“Is it worth being DQ’d?” Kelley swipes her tongue all the way through Lindsey’s center, almost tempting her to say yes.

“You can’t disqualify me from my own competition on my birthday.”

“I absolutely can and will if you make me come when it’s not your turn.”

“Fine,” Lindsey pouts, but within a few minutes, she’s calling Kelley’s name at the top of her lungs, and her body is trembling and she figures she wouldn’t be able to eat Kelley out through the waves of orgasms anyway, so she’ll wait for her turn in the shower.

*****

“I win,” Lindsey whispers in Kelley’s ear as they settle into bed. It comes out more seductively than she really intended it to, because she feels Kelley rubbing herself on her thigh, and she can’t pass up the opportunity to tease her. “I thought you said you were done?”

“I am,” Kelley groans. “I’m so fucking exhausted and sore. Shower sex is hot and all except it is exhausting.”

“Tell me about it. I was having to hold you and try not to slip and I just kept thinking about how if we fell we’d have to come up with some explanation for why we couldn’t play in the tournament,” Lindsey laughs.

“No more shower sex,” Kelley agrees. “So yes, I’m done for tonight, but damn, woman… your voice is just… mmm… and today was just… fucking insane.” Kelley just can’t help it sometimes when Lindsey whispers in her ear like that, her voice all deep and raspy. It gets her so worked up. “So what’d you win?”

“Oh you better believe I’m going to take my sweet time and think about it.” And make Kelley, ever impatient, stew over it. But truthfully, Lindsey already knows. And truthfully, she knows she’d get what she wants even if she lost.

“What are they going to say about all these?” Kelley asks, barely touching the purply-red marks she spent all day sucking into Lindsey’s skin. One on the side of her neck, and one on the base at the back. One on her collarbone and one above the opposite breast. The one on Lindsey’s hipbone that she hopes no one sees - that one’s her favorite – and the match pair on Lindsey’s inner thighs. It’s not her thing, or it’s never been her thing. She’s tried it before. She’s had people stop her. But there are spots on Lindsey’s body that are so sensitive that Kelley can’t resist them. And Lindsey doesn’t stop her. Lindsey does the opposite of stop her, humming at the feeling of Kelley’s lips on her, dragging her nails along Kelley’s back or scalp, almost encouraging her as she works. Kelley couldn’t pass up the opportunity to mark her “Just in case any of those Thornies get any ideas about you being available,” Kelley joked earlier in the evening. Except she wasn’t kidding. And Lindsey didn’t laugh, sensing Kelley’s actual concern behind her flippant tone. 

“Hey,” Lindsey tipped Kelley’s chin up until their eyes met. “I know I haven’t told anyone, and we can, slowly, when the time is right, but I’m yours. I’m not gonna go back to Portland and just replace you with a different Kelli or something.”

Kelley breathed a little easier after that. She knows that most people had figured out by then that Lindsey wasn’t in Denver, but the fact that only Sonny (and by default Rose) knew hadn’t been easy for an insecure Kelley. The way it started, as an experiment, as an affair, wasn’t easy. None of it was easy. And their impending separation isn’t making their situation any easier now that they’re more sorted.

“I mean it, Kell. Besides you, I’ve been with one person my entire adult life. You’re not a fling. I mean, you _were_ a fling, at first, but you haven’t been a fling in my eyes for a long time. You don’t have to worry.”

* * *

**ISO: Day 76**

“You know you can say it,” Kelley says quietly, leaning all of her weight against Lindsey’s strong back. It’s easier to talk to her like this, where she can’t see Lindsey’s face, when Lindsey can’t see her eyes. And she can still hold onto her, because she isn’t convinced yet that she can let Lindsey go. 

“Say what?” Lindsey asks with such innocence that Kelley doesn’t know if she’s being serious. 

“You can tell me how you feel.”

“I already did. I told you how much I’m going to miss you. I told you that I’m yours. What else do you want?” Lindsey knows exactly what Kelley is angling for, and she’d say it, she’d say it and mean it, except given her last relationship, it’s a little scary even if she is sure about this one. She can’t help but remember that at one point, she thought she was sure about that one, too.

“No, I mean… you can tell me you love me,” Kelley mumbles. 

It’s so adorable, this crazy, brash woman who walks around with the swagger of, well of someone who’s a world champion several times over, so afraid to say three words that she all but begs Lindsey to say them first. Lindsey’s laugh sputters out through her tightly pressed lips as she pulls Kelley around in front of her; Kelley’s face falls. “You can tell _me_ you love _me_.”

“I will not say it first,” Kelley says stubbornly. “I said it first last time, and that was a disaster.”

“Well I’m not saying it first. The only time I _ever_ said was a disaster.”

Kelley hugs her again, tighter this time, burying her face against Lindsey because she thinks she might start crying and she doesn’t want Lindsey to see her. “Do you think we’re going to be a disaster?” Kelley asks after a minute, her voice serious and unable to hide the fear that’s creeping back in.

“A beautiful disaster,” Lindsey replies without missing a beat, and she presses a kiss into Kelley’s forehead. 

“We’re not going to be perfect,” Kelley says, still concerned, still doubting. She has this incessant gnawing in her stomach that she needs to tell Lindsey that, in case Lindsey needs an out.

“Nothing ever is,” Lindsey assures her. “And that’s ok. Are you happy? Because if you’re happy, that’s all I need to be happy.”

“No, that’s your past talking. I know because it sounds a lot like my past talking. I’m so happy, Linds, but I don’t want you to be so focused on my happiness that you forget about yourself. You have to be happy separate from me, too.”

“Well I guess we’re about to see how that goes.”

“Please let me go to the airport with you,” Kelley begs.

“No. That’s dumb. Then you have to take an Uber all the way back here. And it’s not like you can kiss me there. Or even go in and wait with me. No. Say bye to me here. Right now. Because I really have to go.”

“I can buy a plane ticket to nowhere and wait with you for like two hours and kiss you in the bathroom.” 

Kelley’s so cute when she’s whiny. It’s one of the easiest ways for her to show vulnerability, to fall back into this place from her childhood where she always felt safe and secure. “You are the sweetest. I want you to know that.” Lindsey kisses Kelley one more time. “I’m going to go wait outside and you’re going to stay here because I’m going to cry if you come outside and try to say bye one more time when my driver gets here. And I don’t cry. Got it?”

Kelley nods dejectedly. “Yes, ma’am.”

Lindsey smushes her forehead against Kelley’s. “Stop being so fucking charming.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Lindsey cups her face and stares at her until Kelley lifts her eyes to meet Lindsey’s gaze. They’re wet, shiny because she’s on the verge of tears. “I’m not in love with you, Kelley O’Hara.”

Kelley sniffles. “Good. Because I’m not in love with you either.”

“See ya!” Lindsey fights to keep her voice easy and casual.

Kelley smacks Lindsey’s ass before she even gets a step away. “Mmmm. Dat ass doe!” 

“Stop!” Lindsey laughs, lingering with her hand on the doorknob. “But don’t ever stop, ok?”

“Never,” Kelley promises. “Bye baby.”

That word – Kelley calling her baby – is just as good as Kelley saying ‘I love you’ as far as Lindsey’s concerned. Because when Kelley says it, she says it with all her love behind it. She can’t hide her feelings in that word, even if she’s trying to.


	11. Backseat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Being apart is so hard, it makes the backseat look good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the record, I only came back to this so I can write a Jan Camp chapter. But whatever it takes, I suppose. Also, it’s almost 3am, so let’s just ignore the probably 100 typos. (And really, that goes for everything that I don’t proofread.)

**Challenge Cup: Day 8**

“Go down to the front desk.”

“Kell,” Lindsey groans. “I just got up to my room. My body hurts.”

She probably does hurt, Kelley knows, the way she threw her body around - literally - to score a goal against the Spirit, tonight. But her surprise is worth a few more minutes of achy muscles wandering down to the lobby. “It’s not my fault you didn’t call me after your game,” Kelley shrugs unsympathetically before a playful smile spreads across her face. “Or text me on the drive back. Come out of the locker room a little faster and _see_ me. I waited for you for a bit. Until it would have been too obvious.” 

That smile is one Lindsey would typically be into, but it’s not the same when they’re not together. She knew Kelley would hang around a few more minutes; she was afraid seeing her would make this whole distance thing harder. And it’s not the same when everything aches. This tournament has been harder on her body than anything she can remember in recent history. Holding her iPad up is hard enough sometimes. But when push comes to shove, Lindsey really can’t resist that smile. Or that messy hair. Or the wrinkles forming at the edges of her eyes because she’s just so damn happy right now. But also, Lindsey’s legs are So. Damn. Heavy. She lifts herself out of bed with a loud groan, and it’s almost worth it to see Kelley’s eyes twinkle. “I swear to god, if you sent me more Crumbl cookies, I will not speak to you for the rest of this tournament,” Lindsey warns. “You might as well tell me what I’m going down to get now, so I don’t bother. I mean, what is your whole purpose in sending me cookies every time I get on the score sheet? We’re teammates. And I’m your girlfriend. Don’t you want to win? And more importantly, don’t you want me to look good for you?”

“Baby,” Kelley says, all the mischievousness fading away as her eyes turn soft, “you will always be so sexy. No matter what. But, you’ve gotten your point across. Those lovely, non-vegan Quest bars are soooo amazing.” Kelley rolls her eyes. “So I dropped off something better.”

“What?!?” Lindsey screeches. “You were here?” Kelley just holds up her hands in the universal symbol of “I don’t know,” and Lindsey shakes her head. “I can’t believe you didn’t even tell me you were here. I hate you.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Kelley ignores her, having adjusted to their non-traditional way of communicating their love. “Take me with you.”

“No,” Lindsey throws her phone on the bed, and Kelley is treated to a view of the ceiling. “It’s what you deserve.”

“Fine,” Kelley yells at no one. “Better wait til you’re back up here to open that box up.”

A few minutes later, Lindsey is back and collapsed on her bed. “I hear you,” Kelley says again, too loudly because she’s not getting the attention she wants. “I wanna watch you open it. Pick me back up.”

Lindsey ignores her, ripping the tape off the box. When she sees what’s inside though, she scrambles for the phone. “I take it back. I don’t hate you. I might lo- I like you a whole bunch.”

“Yeah, I know.”

It’s sweet. It’s one of Kelley’s old hoodies, and when Lindsey pulls it up to her face, it smells just like her girlfriend. She scrambles to get out of her adidas hoodie and into Kelley’s UA one.

“Well keep going,” Kelley laughs.

“You seriously delivered your vibrator to my hotel?” So it’s a sexy gift, too.

“No. I mean, yes, but not like the same one. That’s new. Mine is here. It just didn’t fit in the box with the packaging. We both need one,” Kelley explains. “I’m not giving you mine. Not when you’re in my damn city and I can't see you."

"You saw me tonight."

"Well yeah, I know. But you know what I mean." Kelley rolls back over on her bed. “I’m really glad I got to see you play tonight. I like getting to just watch you, you know?”

“I like you watching me, too. Did you see me looking at you in the stands?"

**Challenge Cup: Day 10**

“Kell, come over. Please. I’ll sneak you in,” Lindsey whines into the phone. Kelley's plan for FaceTime sex has backfired in a major way, because once that was over, Lindsey decided she desperately needed the real thing. So much so that all the reasons why this is such a bad idea are now buried somewhere inaccessible in her brain.

“Linds, we’re gonna get caught and sent home. It’s gonna get out in the media. I brought you a vibrator so we could spend time together, but, you know, on FaceTime. Wasn't last night good?”

Lindsey pouts at her older, and now seemingly more mature, girlfriend. “No,” she says defiantly, because the quickest way to get Kelley to do what is wants is to tap into her insane desire to be the best. At everything. But Kelley’s face falls and she can’t keep it up. “Fine,” she admits with a sigh, “it was good. But it could be better. You’re no fun.” Normally, that would rile Kelley up because her MO is fun; it’s half of how she defines her entire being. Tonight, it doesn’t seem to have much of an effect on her, so Lindsey goes with a different tactic. “You remember my birthday, baby?” she asks sweetly, shifting on the bed to give Kelley a better angle of her neck and collarbones, two spots she knows her girlfriend loves. She has a tank top on, but she knows how to adjust it just right so that it looks like she’s laying in bed topless. She watches Kelley squirm uncomfortably on her couch, but she nods. “And who won?”

“You did.”

“What did I win?”

“Whatever you want,” Kelley pouts.

“Whatever. I. Want.” Lindsey punctuates each word. “What do I want?”

“Me to come over,” Kelley mumbles. 

“That’s right. I wanna fuck you. Tonight. Not on the phone. Not when this cursed tournament is over. Not when I have to fly back to Portland only to turn right back around to make it happen. Now.” She can see it on Kelley’s face, that’s she’s past the point of processing and arguing now, she’s at the point where she’s fully aware she’ll give in, but she still wants to put up a fight because that’s _her_. 

They _have_ waited a week and a half since the tournament began, and that's a huge accomplishment, as far as Kelley is concerned. Truthfully, she can’t think of really anyone who would be able to resist Lindsey for that long while in the same city, after they haven’t seen each other in so damn long. So it doesn’t make her weak to change back out of her pjs and take a drive, she reasons. It’s more like a reward for staying strong as long as she did. She's about to say yes, but she doesn't have to because Lindsey already knows. 

“Kell. Baby,” Lindsey gets her attention again. “Bring a strap for me. But not that strappy harness.”

“I’m not coming in. I wasn’t kidding,”” Kelley grumbles into the phone an hour later. “Come outside. The back door. If you want to see me.”

“Did you bring it?” Lindsey grins, sliding into the back seat of Kelley’s car a few minutes later. Kelley spins around. “What was so important on your phone?”

“Nothing. Why are you in the backseat?”

“More room. Come back here,” Lindsey reaches into the front seat to tug on Kelley’s shirt. “Actually, no. I know this isn’t going to sound hot… at all… so apologies, but can you go park at the back over there? By the dumpster?”

“Linds, we’re not really…” But Lindsey’s already grabbed the bag off the passenger seat and is unzipping it, and that means that they are. Really. “You’re serious about this, aren’t you?” Kelley asks, putting her car in park and turning off the engine. She still can’t quite wrap her head around how someone has supplanted her as the adventurous one in a relationship, the risk-taker, the one with an insatiable appetite for the tastes and smells and sounds of sex.

“Shut up. You brought it. You could have said no. You’re serious about this, too.” She smiles as Kelley climbs into the back with her and leans in to place a lingering kiss on her lips. “This is your fault,” Lindsey says between kisses. “You sent me that vibrator and got me all worked up. I was going to be fine without sex this month,” Lindsey tugs Kelley into her lap, “now I want you.”

“Is that right? You think you could go that long?” Kelley makes it perfectly obvious that she doesn’t believe that for a second.

“Of course I could,” Lindsey insists, her hands sliding up Kelley’s ribs, until her thumbs settle on Kelley's hard nipples, free of a bra.

“This feels like we should make another bet," Kelley grits out, trying to ignore the fiery sensation in her chest.

“No. Do you know how dumb that is? See who can go the longest without sex? Why?”

“Dunno,” Kelley shrugs. “Pride? The sweet, sweet taste of victory? Bragging rights?”

Lindsey rolls her eyes. “You can brag about this to Sonnett if you want. This is a better brag.”

“I feel like this is illegal,” Kelley muses as she stares down at Lindsey, physically above her, but so, so powerless.

“I feel like you didn’t wear underwear,” Lindsey purrs into her ear, gripping her ass and feeling nothing between them but the thin layer of polyester that can’t soften the cuts of Kelley’s muscles. “But right now, can you look away? There’s like no room for me to do what I need to do and this is not going to be cute.”

Kelley moves back to her seat and stares out the window into the darkness. It’s not like anyone would know they're here, she repeats to herself. Lindsey did find the absolute darkest recess of the hotel parking lot. But, she can already picture Lindsey’s hands and lips all over her, the sweat they’ll work up, the fogged up windows that could draw attention. It scares her. It also makes her pussy clench around nothing. She wants - no needs - the same thing Lindsey does. 

Lindsey’s finger tapping on the back of her hand startles her. “You can look now,” and for the first time all night, in a long time, actually, Kelley can hear the hesitation, the lack of confidence, in Lindsey’s voice. 

When she turns towards Lindsey, she tries to keep her eyes on her girlfriend’s, tries to be respectful, though she’s not sure why because what they’re about to do isn’t exactly the most respectful version of sex Kelley can imagine. But Lindsey grabs her hand, placing it on the cock, and Kelley’s eyes follow. In the dim light, she can make out the head, bulging above her hand and calling to her entrance, can almost feel Lindsey trembling where she sits. “Fuck, Linds.” Everything about her voice is raw and real, and full of a want that didn’t exist when she was driving over, when this still seemed like an idea that one of them would chicken out on. She looks up at Lindsey, still in a t-shirt, again. “How- how are you so fucking hot?”

A smile tugs at the corners of Lindsey’s lips and a relaxed wave washes over her. “It’s, uh, good enough?”

“Jesus Christ, it’s better than good enough. It’s unbelievable. It’s- ” Kelley can hardly speak anymore, her saliva thickening at the mere image of that cock in her mouth. She’s consumed by thoughts of Lindsey’s hands, tangled in her hair. Of her head bobbing along to whatever rhythm the blonde sets. Of how much of Lindsey she could take in, choke on. Of how if this weren’t the cramped backseat of her car, and if they weren’t kind of in a hurry, she might be begging Lindsey to fuck her mouth. Instead, she slides her shorts down, leaving them on the floorboard. She doesn’t know if she needs it anymore, she can feel the wetness pooling between her legs, but she reaches into the side pocket of her back and brings out a small bottle of lube. 

Lindsey watches, mesmerized, as she applies it, long, slow strokes along the shaft that leave her uncomfortably rubbing her own thighs together. Impossibly wet. It’s been too long. Some people can do distance. Tobin and Christen handle time apart like it doesn’t phase them. But Lindsey wasn’t built like that, and neither was Kelley.

Kelley stares deeply into her eyes one more time to be sure, and with one firm nod, she’s back in Lindsey’s lap, hovering over the cock, when a gush of fluids escape from between her legs. She’s about to lower herself onto it, knowing she can’t wait any longer, when Lindsey’s hand squeezes her hip, stopping her.

“Tell me you want me,” Lindsey’s eyes sparkle in the moonlight. “Tell me you want me to fuck you.”

“Please, baby. Need you inside. Please fuck me,” Kelley whines without hesitation and with no care for how desperate she sounds, because it’s enough that Lindsey’s already stopped her once, the head of the cock barely through her slick folds. 

If words alone could make Lindsey come, those would do it. The way her girlfriend begs, so needy, and so politely, rock Lindsey with a spasm all the way to her core. Those words are better than Kelley slowly beginning to ease her way down onto the cock, and the steady increase of pressure Lindsey feels in her lap. Better than Kelley letting it slide in and back out several times, sinking lower each time as she adjusts to its thickness, quietly moaning as it stretches her again after more than a month. 

“Come on, baby. You can take all of me,” Lindsey whispers encouragement as she guides her down gently, now desperate herself. Desperate to feel Kelley grinding her hips, to have the base of the dildo pressed against her clit, to move with her girlfriend. And then Kelley’s there, a soft whimper escaping her closed lips as their bodies fall completely flush together. Where they are no longer matters. The small space they have to move no longer matters. The fact that they’re both still half clothed doesn’t matter. All that matters to them both is that they’re here together, moving together, sweating together, breathing the same air at the same rate and able to stare in each other’s eyes as they push the envelope that is their relationship a little farther once again.

Kelley comes with her teeth sinking into Lindsey’s shoulder to try to muffle her throaty cries; it’s a car, but it still seems rather public. She comes in a stuttery series of swells, her walls desperately squeezing around the object inside her. She comes on Lindsey’s t-shirt, leaving a large wet spot that Lindsey’s going to have to contend with on the way back inside. And while she’s still inside her, with Kelley’s chest heaving and their lips glued together, Lindsey comes only seconds later.

“Fuck,” Kelley pants, moving out of Lindsey’s lap to slump against the car seat, and Lindsey does the same, too tired to work her way out of the contraption, and with barely enough wherewithal to find Kelley’s hand across the bench seat. Kelley shudders again at another wave rushing over her, like Lindsey’s still inside her. “Jesus, tell me it was as good for you as it was for me.”

“Your car smells like sex. It’s not all you, trust me,” Lindsey says with a lazy smile. “Damn, I missed you.”

  
  


**Challenge Cup: Day 27**

“Hey!” Lindsey steps out of the change room to find Kelley hanging out in the hallway. Their game ended nearly two hours ago. She wasn’t holding out hope that Kelley would stay through their treatment and showers, meal and cool down, and especially through Mark’s sudden need to try to outline what he wants in the future for the team. But she held onto a little glimmer of hope, and made sure she was the first ready and out of the change room.

“Hi,” Kelley says back nervously, scuffing the toe of her flip flop on the pavement while she very obviously avoids eye contact. She doesn’t know if she should be there, out in the relative open like this. She doesn’t know what Lindsey's teammates know or who will be walking out of that room next. She doesn’t know if what she wants to ask Lindsey is stupid. And right now, she’s thinking a text would have been better. But some things need to be in person. “Sorry you didn’t get to play today,” she mumbles.

“No you’re not,” Lindsey laughs her big laugh, and Kelley is relieved to find that she seems to be ok with sitting out the knockout game against the Dash. “You texted me the whole damn game.”

Kelley finally meets her eyes and smiles. So she wanted attention. She got it with a combination of corny dad jokes and innuendos. Within seconds of sending something to Lindsey, the younger woman would look up at her, and mask be damned, Lindsey Horan had always smiled with her eyes. It got so bad that Sonnett texted both of them because TV cameras were picking up on Lindsey using her phone in the stands. Still didn’t stop them. “So, um, I know you’re flying back to Portland in the morning, and you probably want to get home to Denver as soon as possible, but I was wondering,” Kelley bites on the inside of her cheek and runs her hand through her hair, “do you wanna maybe stay? Or, I know this is dumb, come back?”

Lindsey adores the little bit of hope that Kelley can’t stop from creeping into her voice, the way her eyes almost plead. Breaking the rules - again - she steps into Kelley’s space, fingers finding her forearm. “I can’t. Hey!” she tips Kelley’s chin back up so she can see her eyes. “I wasn't done. I can’t because you’re right, I need to go home and see my family, but I want you to come with me. Well, I guess no one’s gonna let you on the Thorns private jet, enemy that you are, but I want you to meet me out in Denver.”

“Really?” Kelley has to clear her throat and ask again because her voice is so small. 

“Kell, I don’t know how you feel about it, but I want you to spend time with my parents and Mike. Like really let them get to know you,” Lindsey explains carefully, worried it might be too much.

If that revelation surprises Kelley, she recovers quickly. “Are you sure about that? The real me is a little… nuts. They might hate me.” But Lindsey just nods and chuckles and squeezes her arm again. “And… they might get the impression that you, you know, love me or something, if they’re daughter is bringing someone home to meet them.”

“Guess we’re gonna have to let them be wrong,” Lindsey says against Kelley’s lips, where she lingers. 

“Because I’m not in love with you,” Kelley reminds her.

“Exactly. And I’m not in love with you,” Lindsey repeats their little mantra that they can’t give up because the alternative seems too scary. And because in their battle of wills, neither one seems willing to break first.

“You are in love with her,” Kling smacks the back of Lindsey’s head as she walks by, causing their teeth to clash. She didn't even tell Kling. Then again, she didn't do the best job of hiding the bite mark on her shoulder, either. And there was probably a sweetness to her voice when she said it that might say otherwise. “Dumbest shit I’ve ever heard,” she yells over her shoulder as she makes her way to the bus, completely unfazed. 


End file.
